


Doctor's Orders

by JSinister32



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Caring Hannibal Lecter, Comfort and care, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual relationship, Fluff, Hannibal Hates Canned Soup, Hannibal Makes Will Food, Hannibal and Will Alone for the First Time, M/M, Protective Hannibal Lecter, Will Has a Cold, hannibal cares for will, will is sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:15:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26747938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JSinister32/pseuds/JSinister32
Summary: Will Graham has never been particularly good at taking care of himself.  When he comes down with a severe cold while working on a string of murders, the new psychiatrist on retainer, Doctor Hannibal Lecter, offers to care for him.  Will he be able to keep his feelings in check while Hannibal is in his home?Hannibal Lecter can't get the profiler working for the Violent Crimes unit out of his mind.  When given the opportunity to care for him when he's ill, will his feelings for the other man come to light?
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 105
Kudos: 493





	1. Fever Pitch

When his alarm went off that morning, Will knew without a doubt that he should have stayed in bed. His back ached fiercely and the fevered chills of an oncoming cold had already been setting in when Jack called to inform him he was needed at yet another crime scene. When Will had tried to tell him that he wasn’t feeling up to it, Jack simply overrode him, digging within his vast arsenal of guilt inducing phrases to inform him in no uncertain terms that he would be at the crime scene for as long as it too for him to read it.

“I’ve never seen anything like this, Will. I don’t know what to make of it and I need you on this one. I don’t give a fuck what you do with yourself afterward, but you have to be here.” Will knew on instinct he should have said no, especially when Jack told him the length of the drive. The words Jack had used to describe what he saw were still echoing in his mind as he dragged himself out of bed, trying to remember where he put his aspirin. 

The profiler now stood to one side, watching Jack yell loud enough to wake the dead for everyone to clear the scene. Although he was bundled into a jacket and sweater, a warm scarf wound around his neck and lined leather gloves encasing his hands, but he still felt the chill as if he was completely unprotected. He wound his arms around himself as he surveyed the scene before him, his lip raised in a small smile as one of the interns ran from the scene, obviously shaken by Jack’s bellows. _Don_ _’t worry, none of us really gets used to it._

Now that he was on location, he understood why Jack insisted on his expertise. Four victims, all women, hung from the branches of a single, stout oak tree, eyes bulging and glassy; a clear indication that they had been alive when they were hoisted into the positions as their method of execution. All four had startlingly red hair that was indicative of a rather well done dye job but clearly not the real deal, porcelain skin gleaming brightly in the early morning light. Jack, satisfied with the amount of people he’d managed to scare away, stood stoically at his side, surveying the momentary desertion of the crime scene, waiting. Will walked the tree, but Jack remained where he was, waiting for the details he’d provide when he was finished walking the scene. Will sighed, shivering as he moved forward to take in the details of each victim, their pain filled visages burning through his fever to implant themselves into his memory. _Christ, this is never going to get easier._ He closed his eyes, trying not to sway with the sudden vertigo that threatened to overwhelm him, and let the pendulum in his mind clear away everything except the women and their killer.

“I bring you all here together, four women who didn’t know one another prior to your demise. You have something in common, but it is not divulged to you for your understanding. You are not blindfolded, but stand with the others as I take you one by one. I want you to bear witness to the punishment meted out for your supposed crimes.” Will walked forward, hands outstretched as if binding an invisible figure. 

“You’ve been weakened and worn before we arrive, but I take no chances. I bind your hands and feet so you can’t struggle, let you feel the burn of the ropes as they’re tightened around your wrists so you know that you have no power here. You are at my mercy and will suffer my judgment.” A coughing fit took over as Will tied phantom wrists with the ethereal ropes in his hands. Sweat sprang up on his forehead as he finished the task, moving toward the tree as his fevered mind struggled to envision the next act through the tremors riding his body.

“The four of you are significant, the mark of some great purpose that is being realized by your deaths. Each of you is hoisted in turn as the women remaining watch helplessly as the noose cuts off your air. I want you to watch, to see and understand what and why this is happening to you. The time for pleading is past. The hour of retribution is upon you. This is my design.” Will walked forward on unsteady legs to examine the soles of the feet of each victim, noting the dark green loam that stained the skin. Pausing at the lowest hanging woman, a beautiful girl with startlingly green eyes and the creamy skin that marked an Irish descent, he tilted the palms of her hands forward, noting identical stains to those on her feet.

“I took you down in the forest, let you go and hunted you like the creatures I imagine you are. Only when you were caught and bound did you learn what was to be your fate.” Turning the woman’s neck gently, he found the syringe marks as he expected he would.

“I drugged you before releasing you into the wild, making sure that although you could run, you’d never escape me. The hunt is part of the ritual, a way of catching beasts that need to be put down. This is my design.” He stepped back, sweat now pouring profusely down his pallid forehead. He stumbled back to Jack to paint the gruesome picture of four women hunted and hung as witches by someone who had trapped himself so deeply within his own mind, all of his bad fortunes were being laid bare on the shoulders of the women he killed. _This is only the first of many games played out by someone who just realizing the power he could hold in this world. He can choose others, those deemed dangerous by his own standards. He will drug them, cut them down and hang them, over and over until he is stopped._

Will walked with his head down, watching carefully where he stepped as his vision swam before him. He finally came abreast of where Jack stood waiting, realizing too late that someone else had joined the agent as he read the scene. A sudden swooping sensation cascaded through his stomach at the sight of the man that had materialized on the scene; the elusive psychiatrist they now held on retainer for such violent cases, Doctor Hannibal Lecter. Will’s heart sank as he took in the elegant lines of the other man’s attire, envisioning with dismay to his own hurried state of dress to make it to the scene before Jack started taking heads of anyone who got in his way in his haste to remove the bodies from the ground before the press got ahold of the case. In stark contrast, Hannibal looked as if he had just come from a photo shoot for GQ, dressed in a sleek grey suit and white shirt, dark tie knotted neatly at his throat. Will watched with blurry eyes as the doctor alerted Jack to his approach, his voice too low for him to hear what was said. Both men turned and observed Will’s slow progress towards them, Jack looking expectant, the doctor curiously concerned. 

“Tell me, Will,” Jack demanded when he got close enough. Will laughed, the sound high and wild in the quiet of the forest. _Tell me. You did the showing, I have to do the talking, is that it?_ Will cleared his throat painfully and began to speak, relaying his findings to Jack as Hannibal stood by, his eyes dark with some emotion Will couldn’t place. The profiler tried very hard to ignore the burning at his neck and the tingling along his skin as he was visually examined, his physiological state examined as if he were in Hannibal’s office. He hadn’t worked much with the elusive doctor yet, but the other man made his blood race every time he happened to lay eyes on him. Something about him made Will feel anxious. Although Hannibal was perfectly pleasant and professional to a fault during every one of their interactions, Will felt as if some part of the other man moved beneath the surface, just under his professional veneer. An animal, sleek and dangerous, coiled and waiting to strike. He wanted to know everything about him, and when he let his mind drift in the early hours of the morning, it was often thoughts of dark red eyes and the crisp cadence of a sharp, accented voice whispering praises that brought him gasping beneath his sheets. Will pushed his jumbled thoughts aside, hoping vainly that the burning in his cheeks was masked by his fever as he tried to impress upon Jack the urgency of the case.

“He’s-” another dry cough caught him by surprise, rattling painfully inside his chest. Gasping for breath, Will tried again. “He’s just getting started, Jack. Expect a lot more trees filled with women if you don’t do something, and fast. Inspect the moss stains on the hands and feet. They’ll tell you which forest they were running in. It wasn’t this one.” Will’s world swam behind his eyes as Jack’s sharp words buzzed uselessly through his mind. He couldn’t make out anything the other man said to him; the sudden pressure in his ears prevented it. Jack reached for his arm, but to his surprise, Hannibal stepped in to prevent it. The doctor’s words filtered through the stuffiness, soothing down his nerves like honey.

“He’s dead on his feet, Jack. I do not understand how you allowed him to come when he’s so obviously ill. There have been too many hours in service of your needs, so many that it seems to have affected any sleep that he may have gotten over the past few weeks. From what you and I have discussed, he has a difficult time shutting his mind down under the best of circumstances and this case today has clearly gotten to him.” The doctor stepped closer to the profiler, peering into his eyes as Will tried to focus. “Will? Can you hear me?” The gentleness of the doctor’s voice made him want to weep. His vision tilted, the body filled tree lurching uncomfortably as his mind tried to find an anchor something on which he could focus. A cool hand appeared suddenly, resting on his forehead. Will leaned into it for support, his stomach tight as the world spun. The same voice spoke in tight, quiet tones to Jack Crawford, telling him in no uncertain terms that Will was not well enough to be there, reading a crime scene. Contrite, Jack didn’t try to argue.

“I’m taking him away from here for now, Jack. He’s far to sick to drive himself home. Please have one of your interns bring his vehicle back to the Bureau, and if you need more information on the case, kindly forward the pictures you need analyzed to my office and I shall ensure he gets them.” Jack mumbled his ascent, eyeing Will with something as close to worry as he had ever seen on the agent’s face. Will closed his eyes and focused on keeping his knees from buckling. _I just want to go home and sleep for a decade. Is that too much to ask?_

The hand on Will’s forehead was relocated, now placed in the center of his back to usher him from the line of trees. Will tried to concentrate, the dryness in his throat making it difficult to swallow as the soft, cultured voice commanded him to move carefully. They maneuvered slowly through the forest and away from the scene, stopping next to a car that didn’t belong to him. Will heard a door thunk open as he tried again to ascertain what was happening, but when the hand returned to his back, he moved without question. Will sat down in the passenger seat of the unfamiliar vehicle to which he was lead, trying to breathe in the oppressive heat that seemed to surround his entire body, even as the tremors continued their march down his spine. He opened his mouth to inquire as to where they were going, but he was so tired, he couldn’t seem to get the words to coherently form, let alone leave his lips. Hannibal climbed into the driver’s side, glancing at him as he pulled the door closed. He started the car, speaking in low tones as he put the car into drive. Instead of listening, Will’s gaze focused on the silver and gold of the doctor’s hair as he tried without success to understand what the other man was saying. _Such a pretty color,_ his mind supplied unhelpfully. _Spun silver and gold in the sunlight, like the old fairytale._

As they drove, some of what Hannibal was saying finally filtered through Will’s fevered brain. He listened without speaking, enjoying the sound of the other man’s voice. _I could listen to him talk all day. Sounds so good._

“Your fever is higher than what I would deem safe, Will. From what I can ascertain from your symptoms, my diagnosis would be either a severe cold or the flu. I’m going to take you home to rest.” Hannibal paused, glancing in his mirror as he switched lanes. “Jack has seen enough of you on this case for him to have what he needs, and should he need more information, it will filter through me until you are well enough to return to the office.” Will stopped trying to concentrate on what the handsome man was saying; everything in his body ached, pulling his concentration in other directions. The low buzz in his ears hadn’t ceased and when he tried to speak, his words sounded tinny and muffled, as if coming from far off in the distance.

“You’re…” he swallowed and tried again. “You-”

“I’m taking you home, Will,” Hannibal said gently. “You need rest, not to be out in this weather, or at a crime scene.” A hand reached out, brushing Will’s hair back from his forehead. “Close your eyes for now. We will be home before you know it.” Shivering, Will followed the other man’s instructions, letting himself be sucked down into sleep. 

Hannibal drove carefully onward, mulling over the circumstances he now found himself in. _Will Graham, scourge of the Behavioral Sciences unit, empath to the extreme, suddenly under my care._ Although they had little time to interact since he had started consulting with the FBI, he was undeniably pulled towards the man in his passenger seat. Will’s mind fascinated him, as did his disarmingly boyish good looks and the sharp tongue with which he often spoke to those he worked with. He had wanted to speak with him since he had first seen him, but the opportunity had yet to present itself… until now. The last way he expected to come to know him was by playing nursemaid as he recovered from a bout of the flu, but after watching Will determinedly walk the scene, he’d take what he could get and be grateful for it.. Hannibal shook his head as he maneuvered his car down the unfamiliar rain slicked streets towards Will’s home, careful to not wake the man beside him. His heart ached gently in his chest as he listened to the broken breathing coming from the profiler. _I will watch over you if you let me,_ he thought. _You need not think of anything but healing. I will ensure it._

***

When Will awoke, it was by a gentle nudge to his arm as Hannibal adjusted the limb around his neck, sliding his arms bulging beneath him as the doctor lifted him from the passenger seat. Straightening with surprisingly little effort, the doctor turned and carried him away from the car towards the open door to his home. Will tried to form words to protest, but the words wouldn’t come. He was so exhausted, and it felt good to relinquish himself to the care of another. Instead, he closed his eyes and settled into the doctor’s embrace. Hannibal made his way across the porch, and as he reached the door, Will tried to speak long enough to warn him about the dogs. A dry, weak cough issued forth instead, alerting Hannibal to the fact that he was now awake. The doctor’s grip tightened slightly as he continued forward, his words uncannily close to the thoughts moving sluggishly through Will’s brain.

“Shhh. Don’t try to speak right now,” Hannibal soothed. “I am sure your throat is sore enough without straining it. I have already retrieved your keys from your coat pocket and have opened the front door. I am aware of your canine companions, if that is your concern. They are already taking care of their business in the front yard.” Sure enough, as Will looked about, he saw several furry shapes moving about the immediate area. Hannibal adjusted his grip as Will curled his arms tighter around their anchor at his neck. His heart beat hard as he tried to quell his delight at the vulnerability of the man in his arms. _You have nothing to worry over. Let me take care of everything._

“That’s it,” he whispered as Will’s head found the curve of his shoulder. “Rest for me. I will take you to bed before tending to their needs.” Will nodded tiredly and pressed his head against the crook of the doctor’s neck, unsure if he should be ashamed at the comfort the touch brought him. _Fuck. I don_ _’t care. I haven’t felt like this… ever_.

Hannibal, it seemed, had already familiarized himself with the layout of the house when he unlocked the door; he strode confidently through the darkened rooms, opening the door to Will’s bedroom on the first try. He made his way to the bed with careful, easy strides, setting Will gently on top of the covers as he surveyed the comfortable space with keen interest. The floor was comprised of well worn, polished oak, the walls a comforting, pale cream. The bed had been unmade, but in Will’s current state, it didn’t surprise him. The bed itself was large and made of heavy, dark wood and wrought iron, the sheets a cool grey. The comforter was thick and dark blue, and what appeared to be a crocheted cream and blue blanket covered the lower half. It was perfect. Hannibal met Will’s eyes, his heart thumping against his ribs as he took in the deep, dark patches beneath his eyes. They stared at one another for a long moment before Will looked away, embarrassment clear in the pink stains in his cheeks. Hannibal cleared his throat and glanced about the room, spying a dresser at the far end. He moved towards it, speaking to Will over his shoulder as he crossed the room.

“You will need to wear something more comfortable than your current work attire. Will I find something resembling pajamas in your chest of drawers?” Will nodded, his body beginning to tremble with the heat of his fever and loss of the other man’s warmth. Hannibal pulled open the top drawer, revealing a mix of old t shirts and comfortable flannel pants in a jumbled disarray. A sudden flash appeared before his eyes; Will, curled up against him, one of the t shirts and pairs of pants encasing his body as they slept. Hannibal blinked, surprised. While there was an obvious physical appeal to the man on the bed, he had never in his life envisioned another person sharing his personal space in such a manner. _What on earth was that all about?_

Shaking his head, he pulled clean white t shirt and a pair of well worn red plaid flannel pants from the contents within, closing the drawer before coming back to the bed. Hannibal held up the items in question. “I’d like you to change into these.” He hesitated briefly, his eyes soft and concerned, watching as Will nodded. “Do you need assistance, or would you prefer a little privacy?” Will flushed but didn’t respond. Instead, he took the clothes, keeping his eyes on the ground. Hannibal nodded his understanding, the knot of nervousness in his stomach at the possibility of seeing the other man in any state of undress loosening slightly. 

“I shall attend to your dogs while you change. Please get underneath your covers once you’re more comfortable. The fever should be coming full force soon, and you’ll want to be covered for the time being.” Hannibal paused for a moment, watching as Will struggled to breathe. “When did you last eat?” he asked gently. Will blinked at the question, trying to remember when he last ate something resembling an actual meal.

“Um-” he coughed quietly into his hand before trying again. “Last- last night I think. God I’m cold. Why am I so cold?” His voice had deepened, coming out thick and gravelly, every word spoken a small, sharp dagger to his throat. He tried to swallow past the inflammation, but it felt as if a hot lump had formed, restricting his ability to speak and making it difficult to breathe. _God it hurts._

A gentle hand reached forward and brushed Will’s damp hair back from his forehead, fingers carding gently through his curls. Will tried to stop himself from leaning into the touch, his heart pounding painfully in his chest at the caress of Hannibal’s fingers, but he was already so weak, the comfort was a welcome respite he couldn’t prevent himself from enjoying. _God. If he keeps touching me like he is, I am going to end up begging him to stay tonight, and I barely know him._ As if reading his thoughts, the hand withdrew, much to Will’s dismay.

“You’re cold because the fever is setting in. I will make you something to eat,” Hannibal said quietly. “You will need something in your stomach so you can take some medication, something to help you sleep so you can heal.” The hand fell away and he turned away, stopping in the doorway to glance back at where Will sat, huddled on the comforter. “Are you certain you’ll be able to change without assistance?” he asked, his voice warm and soft as smoke. The very sound of Hannibal’s voice asking the question made Will want to ask for his help, just to feel the gentle fingers on his sensitive skin, but he sallowed the desire, instead nodding his ascent.

“I should be able to.” Hannibal nodded and turned back towards the hallway. He had just left the room when Will’s voice called him back.

“Yes?” Will looked very young as he stared up at Hannibal with wide, red rimmed eyes.

“I-” He blushed and looked down. “I just wanted to say thank you. For bringing me home. You barely know me, and it’s a lot of trouble to go through.” Hannibal smiled, leaning into the door frame, and if it wasn’t already, Will’s mouth would have gone dry from the image he posed. _Jesus he_ _’s attractive. I wish he looked at me like that every day._

“Perhaps one day, you can repay the kindness,” the doctor mused. “ But for now, think nothing of it.” He gestured to the clothes on the bed, watching with concerned eyes as Will began to cough once again, the sound painfully rattling in his throat. “Please, change and get beneath your sheets. I will return shortly with something for you to eat.” 

Will nodded and began unbuttoning his shirt, his fingers trembling on the small, slippery buttons. He unbuttoned it to mid chest before pulling it up and over his head, tossing it to the floor. When he glanced back towards the door, he realized with a lurch that Hannibal had already made his exit.


	2. Unfamiliar Territory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first chapter has been edited (thank you again to A for saving me from my grammatical errors), with a little more content added to it. For those of you wonderful people who read it when it was posted, it's been improved if you want to reread chapter one.
> 
> I woke to see how much this story had exploded over the few hours of rest I got. A huge, heartfelt thank you to all of the wonderful people who have read, commented, and sent kudos. I adore each and every one of you.
> 
> While I normally answer questions in my comments, I didn't want to spoil the plot for those of you who asked questions, so I hope this chapter brings about some enlightenment. I adore you all.
> 
> Hearts and body parts,  
> JM

Hannibal made his way to the kitchen, trying in vain to keep himself from picturing the pale skin of Will’s back as the muscles flexed beneath his hands. He had lingered in the doorway long enough to ensure Will would be okay getting undressed unassisted, but had barely escaped his shirt being removed. Although he managed his departure, he couldn’t seem to suppress his obvious attraction to the profiler, especially now, when he was at his most vulnerable. _This is insensible. I just need to focus. It will pass._ Even as he gave himself the mental pep talk, Hannibal had his doubts. Beyond the distressing physical attraction he felt, Hannibal was discovering that he liked Will. Although ill, the profiler possessed a delightful ability to observe and understand the emotional environment he resided in, and made small, unconscious efforts to ensure the comfort of his caretaker. _He doesn_ _’t even understand he’s doing it, yet it happens all the same._

Throughout his life, Hannibal had discovered that, although he tolerated many that found themselves within his social or professional circles, he didn’t have a particular fondness for many, save for how they could be used to his benefit. Emotional entanglements were, in his opinion, best avoided. Will’s effortless ability to smash through the walls he erected, reaching the emotional center he so rarely attempted to access himself, intrigued and terrified him. Will was headstrong and spoke his mind, uncaring of how others might perceive the words he spoke. His actions often drew the ire of Jack Crawford, but Hannibal found their interactions, although infrequent, refreshing in their open honesty. Suddenly, the serendipitous opportunity to spend time with the other in a context that did not involve his ever eroding mental state or a dead body that needed a profile built for it held a greater appeal than any other Hannibal could have concocted, for the simple reason that it needed no orchestration. It had happened purely by chance.

He made his way through the house and turned on the lights as he went, glancing curiously around each room as he did so. Will’s home was compact, but designed in a way that would make its owner feel safely ensconced instead of constricted by a lack of available space. The hardwood floors gleamed warmly, walls pale and relatively unadorned, reaching towards a high, bare beamed ceiling. Several large green and tan rugs adorned the floors, but enough wood shone through that the overall effect was cozy and inviting. The furniture had obviously been selected for comfort over aesthetics; a large dark brown overstuffed sofa and chair took up the majority of the living room within view of a large television that had been set into one wall. A built in shelf held a number of films, but Hannibal didn’t get close enough to read the titles, instead letting his mind wander. He could easily imagine the man in the bedroom in this room, curled beneath one of the many soft looking blankets scattered amongst the cushions. The chair looked less used, a large blanket tucked against the back and an ottoman pulled to one side. The coffee table was covered in crime scene photos, a notepad containing Will’s notes tossed to one side. Hannibal made a mental note to organize and put the photos away for the time being. _I do not wish them to impede Will_ _’s recovery, should he choose to relocate to watch a film._

He made his way to the kitchen, noting with some amusement that Will’s pack had wandered back into the house while he had been caring for their master. He stooped, examining and petting the fur of each dog. He didn’t often take to dogs, but Will’s pack seemed to be as warm and comfortable as their owner, coming closer to inspect him curiously before nestling into a pile in the corner of the room. Hannibal refilled their food bowls, then took their water bowl to top it off. The warm, animal comfort of pets wasn’t completely lost on him, but Hannibal had to wonder at Will’s choice in canine companions. _They look as if they were selected at random, or perhaps rescued from dire circumstances._ The more Hannibal thought on it, the more the second option seemed the most likely. His heart contracted gently in his chest at the thought of Will tending each dog, the thought that nobody else would care for them plain in his features as he made them a part of his family. 

Hannibal removed his suit jacket, placing it across a chair before rolling up his sleeves and thoroughly washing his hands. Will’s kitchen wasn’t small, but upon his initial inspection, he found it contained very few utensils with which to cook. _It matters not. I shall make due with whatever is available._ Hannibal glanced about, lowering his expectations of the ingredients he might be able to scrounge up to make something resembling a meal. He was pleasantly surprised to find a decent loaf of bread, locally sourced from a bakery he himself often frequented, and several selections of cheese. While soup would be the most palatable option for a sore throat, Hannibal doubted very much that Will would have the ingredients for anything extravagant. As he expected, he found no fresh selections he could work with. Resigned to the probable option, he turned with great reluctance to the pantry. His stomach sank when he found the cans of chicken noodle soup on a shelf. Taking one down, he inspected it, a look of disgust plain in his features. The ingredients on the back were enough to make him cringe, but it was the best he would be able to do on such a short notice. _At least I may be able to season it more thoroughly_ , he thought dismally. _Try and remove the_ _… can flavor from it_. 

Taking the soup to the stove, Hannibal lamented the bone broth he had in his freezer as he emptied the can into a pot, turning up the heat on the stove. The accountant whose bones he had used to make it had been unspeakably rude, and had made the mistake of attempting to incorrectly report Hannibal’s income for the previous year in an effort to exploit what he thought would be a lack of understanding. For his efforts, he had found himself on Hannibal’s metal table, spoken to in soft, elegant tones as Hannibal carved him into suitable cuts of meat. He had saved the bones for just such an occasion, and the broth would have helped with a much quicker recovery. _Perhaps, I shall pick up a batch and make him something worth eating tomorrow_. Hannibal let the thoughts land comfortably in his mind, trying desperately to find a way of reassuring himself that he wasn’t already growing attached to Will. _He will need to get back on his feet,_ he reasoned. _The easiest way to ensure it is to make certain he eats properly_ _… or at all for that matter. Keep him comfortable and let him get plenty of rest. Real meals will help him repair in record time._

Turning down the heat on the poor excuse for soup, Hannibal sliced into the bread, buttering each slice generously before dropping them into the skillet he had begun to warm. The smell of crisping bread made his stomach rumble as he added several slices of aged cheddar to one slice, topping it with the second warmed slice before expertly flipping the sandwich over to toast the other side. He added some water and a handful of fragrant crushed herbs to the soup, using a small spoon to sample the broth. _Mm. Not perfect, but much improved_. He let it heat through, then poured it into a bowl before topping it with the barest sprinkling of pepper. The grilled cheese finished moments later, and Hannibal slid it to a plate, cutting it in half before digging into Will’s cabinets for something resembling a breakfast tray. To his delight, he found the actual thing, a heavy metal affair complete with a depression for a drink to be held. Filling a glass with cool water from the refrigerator, Hannibal placed the food and utensils on the tray, adding a bottle of over the counter pain medication and a decongestant he found in the kitchen cabinet. _Perfect. At least he will be able to get some rest while the medication takes effect._

Hannibal picked up the tray, calling down the hallway to alert Will he was on the way. As he entered the room, his heart kicked hard against his ribs; Will, weakened and exhausted was attempting without much success to sit up in bed. He set the tray carefully on the ground, stepping quickly around it to assist. Placing a hand on Will’s shoulder to still him, he helped the fevered man lean forward and placed another pillow behind him before pulling him to sit back against them as gently as he could. Will stared up gratefully at him without speaking, his obvious distress radiating from his rheumy eyes. Hannibal straightened the covers, pulling them up around Will’s waist before stepping back. The urge to card his hands through the profiler’s hair was almost overwhelming, but he had no desire to watch Will’s eyes fill with discomfort at the unprompted and unnecessary touching. Hannibal picked up the tray and brought it to him, placing it carefully over the profiler’s legs. 

“Here you are,” he said. “Some hot soup and a grilled cheese. The perfect food to cure any sickness.” Will stared up, gratitude etched into his handsome features.

“Thank you, Doctor. Really. I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t here.” Hannibal smiled gently, gesturing to the tray.

“Think nothing of it. You should, however, get started before it cools. I do not know if canned soup recongeals and I’d prefer it stay somewhat edible for you.” Will nodded and picked up his spoon, taking a small sip of the broth with a contented sigh. Glancing up, he nodded towards his food.

“Going to make yourself something?” Hannibal shook his head, strangely touched at the other man’s concern.

“Ah-no. I haven’t made myself anything to eat.” Will continued to stare without touching his food before Hannibal sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I take it you won’t eat anything unless I do. Is that the game you are choosing to play?” Will nodded, raising an eyebrow in response. Hannibal shook his head in good natured disbelief. “If I go make myself a grilled cheese, will you please begin eating so I can ensure you take your medication?” Will nodded, picking up his spoon. Hannibal smiled, watching him take a few small bites before retreating to the kitchen. The look in Will’s eyes buzzed through his veins. The man was running a very high fever, yet he was still more concerned over the comfort of his guest than he was for himself. The thought sent a pleasant pulse through Hannibal’s veins, bubbling through his system like champagne. _Caring and compassionate, even when the world is not half as kind. He surprises me at every turn._

Minutes later, Hannibal returned to the bedroom with his own grilled cheese and a glass of water. Placing his plate on the ground, he pulled a comfortable looking recliner over to the side of the bed, retrieving his dinner before sinking down with a sigh. Will watched him eat while continuing to take small bites of soup, wincing each time the hot liquid passed the raw patches in his throat. They worked through their food in a comfortable silence, their eyes occasionally meeting as both men filled their stomachs with the simple fare. Hannibal sighed contentedly as he finished his food, more relaxed than he had been in weeks. Leaning forward, he reached for the bottles he had placed on Will’s tray, dispensing medication into his hand before passing them over to Will. 

“Take these while you continue to eat. It will ensure they don’t make you feel ill from taking them.” Will nodded and swallowed the pills, chasing them with a sip of water. Hannibal took his plate to the kitchen, washing it and the pot and skillet before returning to the bedroom. The last thing he wanted to do was make Will feel uncomfortable while he ate. He dried the clean dishes before putting them back where he found him, noting the dogs didn’t try to beg food off of him, but generally left him alone while he worked. He wondered vaguely if this was typical of a large group or if Will had specifically trained them to stay at a distance unless summoned. Either way, he found their presence as he worked comforting. He took as much time as he felt necessary before making his way back to the bedroom to collect Will’s tray.

Upon entering the room, Hannibal noted with some satisfaction that the profiler looked marginally better after eating, the glassiness and confusion gone from his eyes as he rested against the pillows he was propped against. Hannibal took the tray without a word and washed the dishes before returning to Will’s side. He placed a hand to the fevered forehead. Will’s fever had already begun to drop, the clamminess almost completely dissipated from his skin. Hannibal let his hand rest against the profiler’s skin for a minute, watching with surprise as Will’s eyes drifted closed. The profiler leaned gently into the touch, the pressure obviously comforting in the wake of the fever. Hardly daring to breathe, Hannibal opened his fingers a little wider, allowing them to slide into Will’s curls. He held his breath as a small sound escaped the other man’s throat, a low, contented hum that resonated against the palm of his hand. Unable to stop himself, he gently carded his hands through Will’s curls, watching carefully for any signs that he was crossing a line as he comforted the man in the bed. Will’s eyes remained closed, his face peaceful as he enjoyed the sensation on his scalp. Long minutes passed in easy silence before Hannibal dared to break it.

“It seems like your fever is easing into something more tolerable. Do you believe you’ll be able to sleep?” Will nodded, clearing his throat painfully as he sat up. Hannibal pulled the additional pillow from beneath his head and helped the other man recline, easing him back against the cool soft material of his sheets.

“Can you easily breathe without the additional pillow?” he asked, his gaze gentle and assessing. Will sighed and nodded, his chest rising as he took in a deep breath.

“Thank-” his voice caught in his throat, turning the sound into a rasp. Hannibal hushed him with a glance and took a seat on the edge of the bed as he let his hand drift down the side of Will’s face. _Just to be sure the fever is breaking,_ he assured himself. _The comfort of touch_. _Nothing more than that. We all like a little bit of attention when we are not feeling our best._ It rang false even in his own mind, but Hannibal pushed the thoughts inside, instead choosing to enjoy the fragile moment they shared.

“Please do not strain your voice on my account. You’re most welcome.” He paused, considering his next words carefully. “I have wanted to speak with you outside of our normal FBI dynamic. I feel this time we are sharing is fortuitous in many ways.” He grinned wryly when Will rolled his eyes. “Yes, not counting the fact that it’s better if you don’t currently speak, of course.” Will huffed in quiet amusement. They let another minute pass before Hannibal stood.

“It would be best for you to try and get some rest. Do you think you’ll be able to sleep now?” Will nodded, trying to ease his body a little lower in the sheets. Hannibal stopped him with a hand to the shoulder, feeling Will still beneath his fingers. Roiling heat wafted up from his skin, the fever still burning through the rest of his body. Hannibal’s heart contracted gently. _He_ _’s not yet lowered in core temperature, even though his forehead feels cooler. It must be very uncomfortable for him to lie in such unbearable warmth._

Without a word, Hannibal turned and entered the adjoining restroom, returning a moment later with a warm washcloth. Fevers could be tricky, and while he didn’t want to induce shivers while attempting to make the other man more comfortable, the cloth would likely soothe away the worst of the aches that Will was experiencing. He gently wiped the film of that had congealed on the profiler’s face before moving to the back of his neck. Will hissed at the contact, looking desperately relieved to have the sweat cleaned from his skin. Hannibal picked up each arm and wiped them gently down from shoulder to fingertips. Will sighed contentedly, his head falling back onto the stack of pillows as his eyes shuttered closed. Hannibal disposed of the washcloth and reentered the room, settling into the chair. He would stay until Will fell asleep, then he could make his way home to catch some sleep himself before returning. Tired cerulean eyes opened, finding his own maroon gaze in the low light.

“Stay,” Will whispered into the quiet space. He closed his eyes again, settling down into the bed. “Please.” Hannibal’s pulse sped beneath his skin. _He wants me here with him while he rests._

“I will remain long enough to ensure you are able to fall asleep, at the very least. I do not wish to impose, especially when you are not feeling yourself.” Glancing around the room, his eyes fell upon a novel on the nightstand, something by a British author of whom he had heard but not read. Flipping the cover open, he discovered it to be a collection of short stories. By the names of each tale, he guessed the stories to fall into the fantasy genre. He cleared his throat and held up the well worn paperback. “Shall I read to you while you rest?” Will nodded, taking the book from his hands and turning the pages until he found what he was looking for. Handing the book back, he once again closed his eyes, his face peaceful and relaxed. Hannibal watched him for a moment before turning back to the story he had chosen. Taking a small sip of water, he began to read.

“October was in the chair, so it was chilly that evening, and the leaves were red and orange and tumbled from the trees that circled the grove. The twelve of them sat around a campfire roasting huge sausages on sticks…”

***

Hannibal finished the story, glancing once again at the cover before setting the book back on the nightstand. The story had been darker than he expected it to be, and he had enjoyed it thoroughly. He stored the author’s name and the title of the book away amidst the other memories of the hours he had spent in the company of the fevered profiler. Glancing at Will, he noted the evenness of the other man’s breathing, a good indication that he had finally fallen to sleep. Stretching his back, Hannibal stood, wondering if it was safe for him to return to his own home. _Now is as good a time as any. It will do no good to linger._ As he turned to leave, a hand wrapped tightly around his wrist, causing him to start, his pulse racing beneath the grip that held him. _Will._

Will coughed dryly, the sound harsher in the low light that surrounded them.

“I hate to sound like a child… but I’d feel better if you stayed. Please.” Hannibal’s eyes softened as he nodded, taking his seat once more. He bent and unlaced his shoes, pulling off his socks and fanning his toes against the soft carpet. He loosened a single button on his collar, noting that Will was watching him with guarded interest as he made himself more comfortable. He didn’t dare read into the glances in his direction as he settled back into the chair. Will nodded towards the hall, covering his mouth as he coughed.

“Blanket. Get one. So you don’t get cold tonight. I don’t have a bed to offer-” Hannibal smiled and shook his head.

“If I am to stay, I will stay at your side so I can monitor your fever as you sleep.” He picked up the book, flipping through it’s pages for another story to read. “Do you have another favorite you’d like to hear while you drift off?” Will nodded, taking the book and perusing the pages once more. As he handed the book back, he held onto it until Hannibal met his eyes.

“Don’t read me to sleep and leave. Stay.” Hannibal watched him for a long moment before nodding his ascent.

“I promise you, Will. I will stay the night,” he said quietly. Will released the book, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a soft smile. 

“Then get a blanket before you start to read.” Hannibal sighed and stood, taking the book with him as he went to the couch to retrieve one. He returned moments later with a soft, warm cream colored monstrosity that was easily twice as long as he was tall. He held it up, quirking his eyebrow in question. Will nodded and Hannibal settled back in, tucking the blanket around him as he flipped the book open. Will patted the bed next to him.

"Stretch your feet up out here. It will be more comfortable." Hannibal hesitated for a moment before relenting, stretching his legs until his feet lay against the top of the bed. Will's hand fell onto his feet, gripping lightly as he settled back into the bed. Hannibal’s entire focus fell to the gentle contact, so boldly initiated by the man in the bed. The man who stared at him in such discomfort, yet still asked him to stay, and made him get a blanket before settling down. It took long minutes for his breathing to return to normal.

“Are you ready?” he finally asked. Will nodded, his eyes closed. Hannibal smiled as he began to read once more.

“One. Come back early or never come. In every way that counted, I was dead…” Hannibal continued reading aloud until Will’s breathing evened back out, then read the stories to himself late into the stillness of the night. When his eyes finally drifted closed, the book fell from his fingers and onto his chest, the pages still open to the story he’d been reading.

Will woke once, in the earliest hours of the morning. Glancing over, he found Hannibal deeply asleep, the book cradled to his chest. Comforted, he laid his head back down and slept on.


	3. Creature Comforts

Hannibal surfaced slowly from his slumber, the cold, grey morning light filtering in through the window of Will’s room wholly unfamiliar as he looked around blearily, reacquainting himself with his surroundings. The bedroom was cozy and pleasant in the low light; the bed covers pulled up to stave off the cold. The man that lay beneath them made his stomach clench pleasantly; Will was beautiful when he slept, even when under the weather. He had curled on his side, his back to the doctor, one hand close to his face, the other hidden beneath the pillow. His curls fell across his face in a wild disarray, and while he still sounded congested, he was fast asleep, much to Hannibal’s satisfaction. He stared for long minutes, his mind asking questions he wouldn’t let fully surface into his consciousness. It didn’t matter how touchable he appeared so early in the day. It would not do for Will to wake and find him running his hands through the soft curls that had fallen across his forehead. _Perhaps something to revisit when he wakes._

Shaking his head to clear it of the unhelpful daydreams, the doctor carefully removed his feet from the bed before standing, the blanket he had slept beneath falling to the floor as he stretched his back until it popped. He felt surprisingly well rested considering he had spent the night in an armchair. _The delights of comfort versus aesthetics,_ he mused. He picked the blanket up and folded it before placing it onto the chair. The book he had been reading had fallen from his hands sometime in the night, landing face down on the carpet at his feet. Hannibal retrieved it from where it had fallen, returning it to the night stand as his mind filtered through the stories he had read the night before, filing them away for future perusal when he had the time. Moving as quietly as he could, he made his way through the house to the guest bathroom to wash up a little before feeding Will’s dogs. The man in the bed slept on, his dreams not unlike those the doctor now tried to push from his subconscious.

***

As Hannibal perused the cabinets in search of anything that would make a decent breakfast, he marveled again at how well behaved Will’s pack was. As if sensing their master was sick, they had milled gently around Hannibal’s legs in greeting, quietly moving to the door as he let them out into the grey morning. When they returned, they ate without a fuss before returning to their comfortable spots on the floor, keeping to themselves as he poked through Will’s cabinets. More and more, Hannibal understood the appeal of Will’s canine companions; much like the man himself, they were a joy to be around. 

To his relief, Hannibal found a container of rolled oats in the pantry, quickly followed by the bread he had discovered the night before, a container of cinnamon and a green apple. As he began the water to boil, he managed to locate a box of black tea and a container of honey, the liquid shining golden in the kitchen light as he pulled it from the cabinet. _Excellent. Easy on the stomach, good for the throat._ He let his mind drift as he went through the familiar routine of preparing breakfast, recalling the moments he had spent caring for Will the day before; the feel of the profiler in his arms as he carried him into the house, the flash of heat at the other man’s removal of his shirt, the delight in his eyes when Hannibal had offered to read to him. He wanted more. The little intimacies that came with caring for another individual were completely foreign to him, but he found, much to his surprise, that in the case of Will Graham, the feeling of being needed was not unwelcome. He expertly cut through the apple, adding the chunks to the top of Will’s oats in slices thin enough that they wouldn’t irritate his throat. Filling a mug with hot water from the kettle on the stove, he filled the tray with the simple fare he prepared, taking care to ensure the food was aesthetically pleasing. Satisfied with his preparation, he left the kitchen for a moment to wake the man in the bed. He would be due another round of medication soon, and it would be best for him to keep it in his system until he started feeling better.

Steeling himself outside the door, Hannibal knocked lightly to announce his arrival back into the bedroom, brushing his hands down his shirt nervously to smooth out some of the wrinkles caused by sleeping in his clothes. _Of course I have to look as I do when I finally spend time with him. Perhaps he won_ _’t mind my disheveled appearance too terribly much, all things considered._ The weak call from inside the bedroom kicked his nervousness into his stomach, lightning dancing across his skin as he slowly pushed the door open. Will’s eyes met his in the low light, still red rimmed, but looking clearer and more rested than he had the day before. His hair was still disheveled, making him look much younger than he was. The white t shirt he wore clung enticingly to his chest, damp from the sweat of his fever. Hannibal swallowed painfully, trying to keep his eyes from tracing the warm planes of muscle visible through the thin material. _Well, I cannot fault the simple power of a white t shirt at least. Interesting._

“Good morning, Will,” he murmured, surprised at the evenness of his voice. “How are you feeling?” Will smiled in greeting, the effect only marred when he began to cough. Hannibal watched a curl fall into the profiler’s face, willing his heart to cease it’s pounding. His fingers itched to brush it from his eyes, the desire so powerful, he almost crossed the room. _Cease this way of thinking at once, before you embarrass yourself._

“Good morning, Hannibal,” Will replied, his voice thick. “Slept fine. Seems I managed to sleep through most of the night.” He eyed the man in the doorway, taking in the slightly rumpled appearance. _You slept too. Here, in my house_. The thought brought a flush burning across his neck. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Surprisingly well, for sleeping in a recliner,” Hannibal said, his eyes sparkling. “Your home and furniture are exceedingly comfortable.” Will nodded, the smile toying at the corner of his lips widening a touch. They looked at one another in silence for a moment before Hannibal cleared his throat, the food waiting in the kitchen coming back to him in a rush.

“I’ve made you something to eat,” the doctor said quietly, moving towards the door. “I wanted to ensure you were awake before I brought it in.” Will nodded, turning to peer out the window as if to determine the time of day, another cough clawing its way up into his throat. Hannibal’s heart squeezed hard in his chest as he listened to the sound in Will’s lungs. _I will pick up a cough suppressant while I am out today._ “I’ll bring your tray now, so you can take your next round of medication. Can you sit up without assistance?” 

I think so,” rasped Will. He shifted his body slightly, grimacing as his muscles tightened in pain. His back felt tight and full of knots, skin aching and sensitive. Every movement hurt. “Ahh-”

“Stop. Let me help you.” Will flushed with embarrassment but nodded, sweat pooling against his brow as he sat back, panting.

"I'm not usually this... weak," he gasped.

"Sickness isn't weakness, Will," Hannibal replied, smiling reassuringly as he made his way to the side of the bed. The nervous desire to touch Will’s skin had returned; helping him sit up in bed seemed an easy enough way to quell it. The doctor gripped Will’s arm as gently as he could, bracing his other hand against his back as they slowly maneuvered the profiler’s body into position. Will’s skin felt warm with sleep and fever, and Hannibal couldn’t help but hold on just a little longer than necessary, enjoying the feel of his body through the thin t shirt. _Exquisitely well formed beneath your clothing,_ he thought before he could stop himself. With an embarrassed rush, he realized what he was doing. Quickly leaning back, he fluffed the pillows unnecessarily to mask the slight tremor in his hands. A low moan escaped Will’s lips as he adjusted his position against the bed. The sound warmed in Hannibal’s blood. He leaned back with a smile, meeting the profiler’s pain filled gaze. 

“I’ll be right back with your food. Don’t move so much until you’ve taken some medication. It will help heal the pain in your limbs.” 

His hands still trembling, Hannibal made his way back to the kitchen, returning with the tray as Will curiously took in his selections. Hannibal heard the slight rumble in the other man’s stomach as he set the tray across his lap. Dispensing another round of medication into his hand, he placed the pills within reach before returning to the kitchen for his own bowl and mug. They once again ate in silence, sharing quiet glances as Will tried to contain his coughs, his throat very obviously irritated as he alternated between trying to satisfy his empty stomach and preventing further damage to his already irritated throat. He watched beneath his lashes as Hannibal consumed his own food in small, precise bites, marveling at how something so simple could be made to appear so elegant when performed by the right person. When their food was finished, Hannibal once again removed the tray from Will’s lap, returning only after the dishes had been completed. Will was staring through the window when he returned, his profile just visible in the angled light. The sight stopped him in his tracks, the serenity of the scene washing through him in a warm rush. Will really was astonishingly attractive. Hannibal took a moment to study the other man’s features; the long, slim line of his nose, the curve of his chin, the delectably strong jaw, the true blue of his eyes, his hair where it tumbled across his forehead. The man could be used for sculpture. He watched for a moment longer, his heart aching distressingly, before clearing his throat. Will glanced over sleepily, his eyes already drooping as the medication took effect.

“I am going to run some errands,” Hannibal said quietly, as if to not disturb the peace of the room. “I’d like to pick up the ingredients to make you some proper soup this evening. I will pick up provisions for lunch as well, if that suits.” Will nodded, his face contemplative.

“Do you actually want to return?” he asked, his voice raw. “I can’t imagine that this is how you enjoy spending your time.” He coughed into his hand before continuing. “You don’t have to babysit me the entire time I’m sick.” Hannibal flushed, lowering his eyes. _It seems I_ _’ve made the mistake of becoming too familiar. How…disappointing._ He straightened his back, lifting his gaze back to the man in the bed.

“If you’d prefer that I don’t-”

“No. I want you here.” _Oh._ “I just-” a cough covered Will’s embarrassment. _Christ, how needy I must sound._ Hannibal watched him, his eyes softening in understanding. He moved closer, taking a seat on the end of the bed.

“I truly do not mind, Will,” he replied gently. “Caring for you while you are ill will assist in expediting your recovery.” He paused a moment, thinking before continuing. _In for a penny, it seems._ “I planned to be here until you are no longer running a fever. Should Jack and his forensics files come knocking, you will require a buffer to prevent you from working when you should be resting.” Will’s eye crinkled as the small smile returned.

“You plan on telling Jack… what, exactly?” Hannibal gave Will a thin lipped smile, his eyes draining of their warmth. The look sent a shiver marching down Will’s spine, spilling heat into his cheeks. _Jesus. He looks like he could eat Jack alive. Why is that so attractive?_

“That you can attend to his case when you are feeling up to it,” the doctor replied evenly, his gaze steady. “Jack’s cases are not going anywhere, Will. Should they require immediate perusal, I will bring the files to you. We can discuss what you see so that I may relay any prudent details to him without him interrupting your rest.” Will’s heart raced, his body tingling at the other man’s words. _He sounds so protective._

“You’d actually tell him that?” Hannibal nodded, his eyes flashing. 

“After what I witnessed in the forest yesterday, I’m of the opinion that our Uncle Jack needs a reminder that, while you are valuable beyond measure, you are not invincible. You are, in fact, as human as the rest of us poor souls. The more often he bothers you, the more time it will take you to recover.” He reached forward and smoothed the covers unnecessarily, just to have something to do with his hands. “Rest assured, Will. You will not be leaving the house until I have determined that you are well enough to do so. Jack will just have to handle his cases on his own until then.” He hesitated before standing, watching hopeful disbelief chase across Will’s features. _He_ _’s never had someone care enough to advocate for him. It is as new to him as it is for me to care for someone. Intriguing._ A low curl of warmth settled into his stomach at the thought. He gestured vaguely in the direction of the bathroom and lifted an eyebrow questioningly.

“Before I leave, would you like to shower, or take a bath and rest your aching muscles?” he asked, holding Will’s eyes. “I can help you to either.” Will nodded, trying very hard and failing to keep the flush from his cheeks. _Helping me to the bath. Christ. How am I going to survive this?_ It didn’t matter. The thought of getting clean, floating in hot water, brought the answer to his lips.

“A bath sound amazing, to be honest.” Hannibal turned back, a question on his lips. Will overrode him nervously, the words pouring forth in a rush. “My medication will likely kick in before I’m finished, so you don’t have to wait the entire time I’m in. I can make my way to the bed while you’re out.” The doctor paused a moment before nodding with a small smile.

“I will start the water for you, then help you into the bathroom. Does that suit?” Will nodded again, his cheeks stained a pale pink.

“That would be great.” Hannibal turned and moved out of the room. The sound of the taps turning in the bath did nothing to help with Will’s nerves. _God, if this gets any more comfortable, he_ _’s going to be the death of me._

***

“You’re right. Real food is definitely better than what I normally eat.” Hannibal laughed as Will finished the orzo in his bowl, setting it aside as he stretched. When he returned to his normal position, the doctor handed him another round of medication, this time including a cough suppressant. 

“I’m happy you were able to enjoy something fresh. I’ve started chicken soup for tonight- not out of a can,” he said, grinning wryly. Will smiled, patting his stomach.

“I’m going to gain ten pounds if I keep letting you feed me like this,” he groaned happily. Hannibal regarded the profiler from his seat next to the bed.

“You do not need to be concerned, Will. I daresay what you’ll eat will be healthier than what you normally do. Plus,” he continued, letting his eyes travel down Will’s form, “you wouldn’t suffer from a little weight gain.” Will laughed again, covering his mouth as it turned into a cough.

“Thanks a lot, Hannibal.” They grinned at one another comfortably, letting the silence stretch like taffy between them. Just as the atmosphere began to thicken around them, Hannibal stood and collected their dishes, breaking the tension as he did. He regarded Will from where he stood, his expression contemplative.

“I am unsure if you are feeling up to it, but you may want to change locales for a while this afternoon, while you’re still feeling better,” he said conversationally. “If you’d like to move to your living room, I’d be happy to help you.” Will nodded, his eyes soft in the low light.

“Do you feel up to watching a film?” he asked, suddenly shy. “I mean… if you have nothing else to do, that is.” Hannibal inclined his head, his small smile making a reappearance. The sight of that soft, secretive smile kicked Will’s pulse up against his ribs. _As if it_ _’s for only me._

“That suits me just fine. Let me wash these,” he said, indicating the dishes in his hands, “and I will help you move to the couch.” 

Will nodded and leaned back into the the pile of pillows behind him. He watched Hannibal’s retreat, his stomach in pleasant knots. They were already becoming much more comfortable with one another, their glances lingering, conversation easy as they consumed their meals. He had managed to change while Hannibal had been away, grateful he had done so when the doctor returned. Hannibal had come back an hour after he had gotten out of the bath, dressed comfortably in jeans and a dark blue sweater, a bag over his shoulder containing additional clothing should he require it. He looked like he had walked out of Will’s fantasies, his exact vision of what a partner would be; enticingly comfortable, and so attractive, it make his pulse race. It was hard to keep from staring at the doctor’s mouth when they spoke. Will blushed, wondering what it would feel like to kiss the grin from those lips. His skin ached from the heat of his attraction as much as the low fever still riding his body.

Hannibal returned after checking the soup, moving with an almost feline grace as he crossed the room. Holding his hands out to Will, he helped him from the bed, transferring an arm around his waist as they made their way to the couch. Will tried not to lean into the doctor’s arms, but it was a near thing. The other man was strong and tactile, and it was becoming increasingly difficult not to give into his desires for closeness. While Will wasn’t feeling as weak as he had been, the short walk took what little breath he had in his lungs. They made their way to the living room, moving so slowly that Will expected to feel Hannibal’s impatience as they progressed, a sheen of sweat was clinging to his brow. The impatience didn’t come. Instead, the other man paused from time to time without being asked, letting Will catch his breath. After what felt like forever, Hannibal deposited him on one end of the couch, dragging the ottoman over for him to prop up his feet. When he was sure Will was comfortable, he retreated momentarily, returning with a fresh cup of tea and a cool cloth to clean his face. 

“What movie would you like to watch?” Hannibal asked quietly as he brushed the cloth over Will’s skin. He carded his hand through Will’s curls, gently cleaning his forehead. In a moment of weakness, the profiler leaned into the touch, resting his face on Hannibal’s open palm. _Exhausted. This is okay. He isn_ _’t pulling away._ He gently cleaned him until the cloth turned warm. Only then did he excuse himself to deposit it back in the bathroom. Will’s cheeks were flushed red when he returned.

“Do you have any preferences?” Will murmured, his eyes glassy. Hannibal shook his head, but made his way to the shelf where the profiler’s movies were housed. To his delight, he found several old black and white films; movies he himself kept at home but didn’t often take the time to watch. Perusing the selection, he chose three, holding them up for Will to inspect. An embarrassed grin crossed the other man’s face as he took in the titles.

“You’re a fan of old movies, too?” Hannibal returned his smile and nodded. 

“I have my modern preferences as well, of course, but there is something… pure about the black and white era of film.” He looked at the options he had chosen, selecting his two favorites from the bunch. “Would you prefer to watch Psycho or the Maltese Falcon first?” Will tilted his head, considering.

“Let’s start with The Maltese Falcon,” he replied, warmth blooming in his stomach. _First. He wants to watch more than one, possibly all three._ Hannibal nodded, depositing the other on the coffee table before bending to insert the movie into the DVD player located beneath the TV. Will stared, only a little ashamed, at the delightful frame displayed as he did so. Hannibal straighted and, flushed with embarrassment, he quickly averted his gaze. Picking up the remote on the way back towards the couch, he handed it to Will before relegating himself to the other end of the sofa. He pulled one of the many blankets onto his lap, his feet beside him as he leaned into the arm of the couch. Will watched as he arranged himself, the heat in his stomach flaring to life. _How many people get the chance to see you like this?_ He wondered. _How many people have seen you in your socks, relaxed and prepared to waste your afternoon, watching daft old movies?_ He didn’t know the answer, but his heart squeezed gently in the realization that he was one of the privileged. With a sigh, he picked up the remote and followed the prompts to begin the film.

As the movie wore on, Will found it increasingly difficult to ignore Hannibal’s reactions. His obvious love for the cinematography was etched clearly into his features, his eyes lighting up as he quoted lines beneath his breath. The entire scene was endearing. It made him want to tuck himself against the doctor so he could hear the words whispered in his ear. The thought alone left him trembling hard enough that Hannibal collected another blanket from the back of the couch to tuck around his legs, his eyes warm and concerned. As he drew close to cover him, Will caught a whiff of his aftershave, the spicy scent making him feel weak with need. He was suddenly grateful for the cover of the blankets; they nicely concealed what would otherwise be a very prominent erection growing in his lap. _Christ. Get ahold of yourself._ Hannibal leaned back into his corner and the sounds of the movie filled the dim light that surrounded them once more.

As The Maltese Falcon turned into Psycho, a quiet, steady rain started coming down outside, all but ensuring the perfect atmosphere for a lazy day spent watching movies. Will continued to watch Hannibal more than he watched the movie that flickered on the screen. _If I wasn_ _’t sick, this would be the perfect day for pretending to watch movies,_ Will thought, amused. His exhaustion was beginning to take over once again, and more than once, he felt himself list to Hannibal’s side of the couch, waking just in time to keep from embarrassing himself by ending up in Hannibal’s lap. Halfway through the second film, he could no longer keep his eyes open. He let them shutter closed, willing himself to remain upright, but it was a battle he was destined to lose. It wasn’t long before his body drifted, but he slept on, unaware of closing the gap between their bodies.

When Will drifted over onto Hannibal’s side of the couch, head falling against the doctor’s shoulder in his slumber, Hannibal only smiled. Carefully, he reached up a hand to brush Will’s curls back from his face, relishing the fine, soft texture of his hair as he allowed himself the luxury, even if it was just for a moment. Will leaned into the touch in his sleep, whispering Hannibal’s name like a prayer. Hannibal’s stomach tightened, delight and desperate happiness dancing across his skin like lightning. He rested his head against Will’s and continued to watch the film without really seeing the end. When the credits began to roll, he carefully removed the remote from Will’s hand and turned the TV off, the movement causing Will to draw closer, his head falling to the doctor’s shoulder to his chest. Heart thumping, Hannibal pulled one of the blankets around them both and closed his eyes, holding Will carefully against his body as he relaxed into the warmth of the profiler’s skin. He kept their positions as if they had naturally fallen together, but Will wound himself around Hannibal’s torso, his face buried against his chest, a soft sound of contentment escaping his dry lips. Hannibal carded his hand through Will’s curls, whispering to him in Lithuanian until the profiler settled once more. Long minutes passed until the sound of the rain coming down coupled with Will’s quiet breaths pulled Hannibal down into sleep as well.


	4. Hunger

When Will woke, it was in stages. The world still fuzzed around the edges, and a haze from the rainy windows had settled into the living room. The overall effect was an ethereal dreamland from which he didn’t want to awaken. It took him several minutes for him to understand that he wasn’t dreaming; he felt far too warm, comfortable and relaxed for it to be anything else. The heat was what finally made him question his state of consciousness; he had never experienced such a liquid heat within a dream. It surrounded him, protected him in a bubble of perfect relaxation. He felt better than he had in weeks. _Must have been sick longer than I thought. Still so, so tired._ Closing his eyes, he snuggled down into the wonderful heat, wishing on every star that he would fall easily back to sleep. _Mm. So warm-_ With a lurch, he realized the source of his comfort. _Oh. Oh no._ Sometime in his sleep, he had managed to drift across his side of the couch to wrap his arms around Hannibal. The doctor was also asleep, and had opened his arms to allow Will to curl into his body, Will’s arm now resting across the doctor’s stomach. Hannibal’s arms curved around him, holding him as he slept. The scorching warmth was rolling off the other man in waves, and Will wanted nothing more than to sink back into it, as if he were taking a hot bath. His stomach tightened at the thought, but he knew that if Hannibal woke now, there would be a good chance of unintentional embarrassment by their proximity. It was the last thing he wanted, especially because the doctor had been nothing but kind and concerned, taking care of his every need since bringing him home. Will’s heart thrummed in his chest as he thought hard, trying formulate a plan to disengage himself from Hannibal’s arms without waking him. _Think. You can do this._

The first idea to come to him was a simple stretch and roll, behaving as if he himself had just woken. He could do it without acknowledging their embarrassing position, ensuring there was little embarrassment, if any. He tensed, breathing in Hannibal’s scent as he mentally prepared to attempt it. _Come on. I got us in this predicament. It_ _’s only fair that I get us out of it. It will work._ The more he thought about it, the less sure he was that he would be able to pull it off, but it seemed to be as good a place to start as any. Taking a deep breath, he arched his back, curving his body as if he were going to stretch his arms over his head. Hannibal made a small sound in his throat, sleepily pulling Will tighter into his arms, one hand snaking behind his back to take hold of his hip. _Oh god._ Will bit back a moan; it had been so long since anyone had touched him as if they wanted him that he wanted to relish it, sink back into the arms holding him and let sleep pull him under. _But if he wakes up_ _…_ He couldn’t bear it if Hannibal was uncomfortable by their position.

Will thought hard, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to resist the pull of sleep. As he tried to think, it hit him. _What if_ _… I can just lay here. Pretend I’m still asleep. Eventually, Hannibal will wake and come to the realization of our positions on his own. He can pull away, no harm done, because he will think I’m asleep._ He snorted delicately, letting his body naturally relax back into their embrace. Hannibal’s warmth engulfed him; his bones felt as if they were melting at their contact. With a sigh, he closed his eyes. He was warm, more comfortable than he could ever remember being, and he wanted to be exactly where he was; in the arms surrounding him, holding him as if he were cherished. Silencing the voice of doubt, Will nestled his head beneath Hannibal’s chin. _Just a little longer. Until he wakes._

Within minutes, he fell back to sleep.

***

The incessant chime of Hannibal’s phone finally roused him from slumber. He felt heavy and warm, comfortably tucked beneath a blanket, the room fragrant with the scent of chicken soup and hazy from the dreary day. Groggily, he sat up and reached behind him, feeling for the infernal piece of plastic that was making so much noise. The source of the weight became apparent while he stretched back; Will was still settled on his chest, his arm wrapped around his waist. _Good. Rest for me. Rest and get better._ Hannibal resisted a smile, his questing fingers finally came into contact with his mobile. He quickly unlocked the screen, silencing it as he meant to before they settled down onto the couch. Looking through his alerts, he inwardly groaned. A series of texts from Jack greeted his sleep blurred eyes, the messages becoming more insistent as they went on.

[04:56PM] **Hello Hannibal. I’m at a new crime scene. Its like the last one. I need an expert opinion. How’s Will faring?**

[05:08PM] **You there?**

[05:22PM] **Fine. I’m going to assume Will is still too sick to show. Please respond when you can and give me a time that I can drop off a file. I really want to shut this one down.**

Hannibal opened the conversation, typing his reply with as little motion as possible, willing the man in his arms to remain sleeping. _He needs to recover his strength. Right now, the best place he can do that is exactly where he is._

[06:12PM] _Hello Jack. As you are probably aware from my lack of response, Will is still not doing well. He is currently asleep, and I_ _’d very much like him to remain that way. Is there any way you can provide pictures and notes from the case? I can pick them up first thing in the morning. -HL_

The message was seen almost immediately. Jack began typing back as Hannibal waited, a hand stroking rhythmically through Will’s curls. _His_ f _ever seems to be at bay. This is good news at least._

[06:14PM] **When you didn** **’t respond, I thought as much. I can provide you with a case file by tomorrow. It should include anything the techs find out this evening. You still staying with him?**

Hannibal’s stomach tightened at the question, but he typed his response as if unaffected. _If you only knew why I was still here Jack, you wouldn_ _’t be so casual about your inquiries._

[06:17PM] _Yes, I am still a guest within his home. I am monitoring his fever until it breaks and ensuring any tenacious visitors that may attempt to show up at irregular hours bearing the gift of case files are kept at bay. -HL_

Hitting send on the message felt better than Hannibal could have expected. Even though the time they’d spent together had been short, he had developed a fondness for Will, an unprecedented protectiveness rising in him like the tide. _Your reason for feeling so does not matter. It is natural, considering you used to be a doctor. It is natural to develop a sense of duty for your patient._ The screen of his phone lit up, effectively ending Hannibal’s internal debate. The message that appeared below his own cut his breath; low, hot anger bubbled in his stomach.

[06:19PM] **If you think you** **’re going to keep me away for long, you have no idea just how tenacious I can be, Hannibal. I need his help. You are not going to stop me.**

The doctor smiled grimly, a feral baring of teeth. _Oh, Jack. You do not know the rules of the game which you are attempting to play. Let us not begin this dance over such a small transgression._ His fingers flew across the keys, the message only half as savage as he intended it to be.

[06:21PM] _Let us never come up against one another in defense of Will, Jack. Rest assured, I will be there to pick up the case file from you tomorrow. You are not to arrive or bother Will beforehand. You will not enjoy our confrontation should you choose to push me on this. -HL_

The message was seen, but Jack didn’t respond right away. _Good. Think wisely on it, old friend._

[06:23PM] **Okay, okay. Tomorrow then. I** **’ll be at the office by 8 at the latest. Please try to be as early as you can. Other lives may depend on it.**

Hannibal locked his phone and tossed it onto the side table, feeling vindicated. Without another thought, he settled back into the couch and pulled Will closer, as if to protect him from the conversation. With a jolt, he realized what he was doing, but only paused fractionally in his actions. Their contact felt too good, too _right_ for such a small thing to stop him. Much to Hannibal’s relief, Will slept on. _Jack be damned, you will not be returned to the stresses of the FBI before you have fully recovered. I shall see to it myself._

***

Will was jostled awake when Hannibal reached for his phone, but when the doctor pulled him closer instead of disengaging himself from their embrace, his breath cut to nothing. He had anticipated embarrassment at their proximity but much to his surprise, Hannibal seemed to want to prolong it. He could feel the movements of the doctor’s hands as he tapped against the screen of his phone; whomever he was texting was obviously irritating him. Will could feel the tension in the arms that encircled his body, the tightness that ran slowly across Hannibal’s shoulders. His breath burned in his lungs, willing him to breathe. He inhaled slowly, silently begging his heart to stop pounding against his ribs. _Don_ _’t want to let him know I’ve been awake this whole time._ The phone clattered back onto the table, Hannibal’s conversation concluded. Will let his eyes drift closed, his body relaxing naturally against the other man’s chest. Time stretched on, so long that Will was almost asleep when Hannibal’s sleep roughened voice rumbled through his chest.

“How are you feeling?” _Shit._

“Feeling a little better,” he replied, unwilling to move from where he lay. He hesitated before continuing. “How did you know I was awake?” Hannibal snorted, carding a hand through Will’s curls. The light caress sent tingles skittering down his spine that felt so good, the profiler had to bite down on the moan that rose to his throat. _Don_ _’t you dare._

“Your body tensed when I put my phone down,” the doctor replied. The silence stretched around them, peace settling over the room. Hannibal continued gently rubbing Will’s scalp, his nails sending shivering cascades of sensation down the profiler’s skin. The massage lulled Will back into the comforting lethargy of the sickness still riding his body and for a while, he dozed. It was another half hour when Hannibal finally pulled back, and the loss of his touch was an almost physical pain. Will shifted his weight, watching blearily as Hannibal stood and stretched, the long lines of his body prominent in the loose grey button up and comfortable but still well cut slacks adorning his body. The warmth in his voice when he spoke soothed through Will’s mind like balm, calm and comforting as a fleece blanket.

“Are you feeling up to eating? The soup I promised you should be just about done.” Will nodded and rubbed his eyes until he saw bright star bursts skitter across his vision. He waited for them to dissipate before opening them, the light around the edges still haloed in bright white. _At least it_ _’s preventing me from staring,_ he thought morosely. _He_ _’s already been so kind. I don’t need to make things awkward between us. Yes_ nagged a voice at the back of his mind, _but what about the way he was holding you, knowing you were awake? What does that mean?_

The doctor made his way into the kitchen and lifted the lid on the pot where their meal was simmering, inhaling the rich scent of the soup before retrieving a spoon. Scooping a small amount of broth, he tested it, closing his eyes as he savored the taste. Will’s entire soul seemed to sigh at the look of pure enjoyment gracing Hannibal’s handsome features. _Christ. How can someone be that attractive with a spoon in his mouth?_ The doctor’s eyes remained closed, and Will drank in the view, his eyes hungrily roaming across the other man’s form while he was able. He glanced away when Hannibal’s eyes opened, a flush creeping up the back of his neck. _Jesus, get it together._

“The broth is perfect,” he murmured as much to himself as to Will. Glancing over to where Will sat huddled beneath the blanket, he smiled wryly. “Although I attempt to refrain from hubris, this is one of the best meals I’ve prepared in some time. I have no doubt that once you’ve eaten, you’ll feel much better.” Will laughed, his voice rattling dryly in his throat. Hannibal retrieved two bowls and ladled soup into both. He sliced what was left of Will’s sourdough loaf and buttered each slice generously before turning back.

“Are you comfortable where you are?” he asked. “I can bring you dinner on your tray if you’d like.” Will shook his head and stood on shaky legs, making his way to the kitchen to sink onto one of the stools that sat in front of the bar. He looked a little paler under the harsh lights of the kitchen, the white lamps leaching any color from his skin. The determined look in his eye was enough for Hannibal to understand that it would do him no good to argue with him about where they sat. _Determination is admirable, but don_ _’t let it cause you pain when there is no need._

“I can eat here,” Will said, his voice trembling in his throat. “I can’t just stay on the couch until I feel better. Plus,” he said with a wan smile, “this will ensure I have less of a chance of dropping my soup into my lap.” Hannibal laughed and nodded, setting a steaming bowl before him, adding two thick slices of bread before retrieving a spoon. Will looked into the bowl, eyeing the rich broth with hunger. 

“This looks wonderful. I-I really appreciate you going through the trouble.” Hannibal’s heart pulled gently in his chest. Reaching out, he touched the back of Will’s hand. The profiler stilled beneath the light contact; he stopped breathing altogether. _I would do this for you all the time,_ Hannibal realized with a lurch. _I want to learn what you like, delight you every day._ He cleared his voice and withdrew his touch, busying himself with his own bowl.

“Think nothing of it, Will. It’ s my pleasure. What would you like to drink? I got juice and ginger ale while I was out, but both may be off-putting with a meal.” Will considered for a moment.

“Just water would be perfect,” he replied. “Thanks, Doctor.” His throat beginning to burn from use. He tried to clear it, but the pain only worsened. _Damn. Not as good as I thought I was doing._ Hannibal smiled and retrieved two glasses, filling them with water before rounding the counter to take his seat. He surveyed Will’s condition for a moment, taking in the pallor of his skin and the obvious strain to his voice. _If only I could do more for you. Anything. Everything._ The thoughts circled dangerously in his mind before he could stop them.

“No need for such formalities,” he murmured as he picked up his spoon. “Hannibal is preferred from my… friends.” Overwhelmed, Will nodded and picked up his spoon. _He thinks of me as a friend. I want more than that._ Culling his emotional turmoil, he tested the temperature of the broth before tasting, groaning in appreciation as the flavors hit his tongue. _Holy hell, the man can cook._ He took another bite, letting the liquid slide soothingly down his throat. While he couldn’t taste much, the richness of the obviously homemade soup came through, making his stomach rumble with hunger. His face flushed at the sound. Hannibal only smiled, taking a bite from his own bowl. His eyes closed contentedly as he savored the flavors, enjoying the silky texture of the long simmered dish. _Perfect in every way_ _… and made better with the company_. Will took another mouthful, swallowing before attempting to speak.

“This is amazing. Bone broth?” Hannibal nodded, his eyes gleaming in the kitchen lights.

“Yes”, he replied. “Homemade. I prefer it to anything that can be purchased from a store. I just save the bones from various animals I have eaten until I have enough. When I’m ready, they get roasted in the oven to optimize the flavor, then all go into a large pot. I add various fragrant herbs and vegetables, let boil them for a day. Strain, cool, and store for future use.” His voice was low and rich as velvet, soothing into Will’s mind as he spoke. Will nodded, enjoying his food as he listened in fascinated silence. 

“Where did you learn to cook like this?” he asked. Hannibal wiped his mouth before answering, assembling his thoughts into something Will would accept as a truthful answer. _I can_ _’t exactly explain to him that it was because of the necessity to make human flesh palatable while I was forced to cook and eat my sister that I eventually sought to master the fine art of French cuisine._

“Certain skills were insisted upon in my family,” he finally replied, lowering his eyes to his bowl. “I spent much of my childhood under the care of my aunt and uncle, and they wanted me to have useful abilities as an adult. They provided me with the basics, I expounded upon them as an adult.” Will nodded thoughtfully.

“I am very grateful for your skills,” he confessed. “This is worlds away from canned soup.” Hannibal laughed and picked up Will’s bowl, ignoring the feeble protests as he filled it halfway with more soup. He placed it before the profiler, gesturing with his ladle.

“I’m happy to feed you Will, but you need to eat more than that,” he replied, his voice still filled with humor. “Finish that bowl. It’s mostly broth, and will help you recover faster.” Will grinned and let the protests die as the heavenly scent from the bowl wafted up into his senses. _A little more can_ _’t hurt._

“Miracle cure, is it?” he asked, his eyes sparkling as Hannibal made his way back to his seat. The doctor laughed, running his hand fondly through Will’s curls. _Troublemaker when you_ _’re feeling yourself, aren’t you?_

“Perhaps,” he replied as Will leaned weakly into the touch. “Either way, it will be best for you to listen. Doctor’s orders.” Will smiled and picked up his spoon, finishing a second bowl of broth under Hannibal’s careful supervision.

***

Hannibal finished the dishes, insisting he was perfectly capable without the profiler’s help. Feeling useless, Will wrapped back into his blanket and redeposited himself onto the couch, shivering with the pain that marched up his spine _Can_ _’t seem to warm up_. He huddled back into the cushions, feeling miserable. It took him several minutes to realize it was still raining, the damp chill seeping through the walls of his home. _Jesus, no wonder its so cold in here._ He contemplated starting a fire, but decided it was unlikely he’d be up long enough to make the work worth his effort, especially when he was already so tired. Hannibal approached with a tall glass of ginger ale and handful of medication, handing both to the profiler. Will took the pills under Hannibal’s watchful gaze, shivering as the cold liquid hit his stomach. His hands trembled with cold when he handed back the glass. Hannibal frowned but put it away in the kitchen before returning to sprawl across the opposite side of the couch. Will’s heart squeezed painfully; he wanted to move closer, wrap himself in the warmth of Hannibal’s embrace, but didn’t know how to ask, worried that his request would be denied. _Why would he allow me closer? He barely knows me._ Once again, Hannibal surprised him. As if reading Will’s mind, he smiled and stretched his arm along the back of the couch, gesturing for Will to move closer. Desperate relief flooded the profiler’s face as he shifted closer, shivering at the warmth radiating along Hannibal’s skin. The doctor pulled another blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around the man in his arms, covering them both to stave off the chill in the air. Will sighed and closed his eyes, pressing himself into Hannibal’s side. _Why is he so comfortable? This should feel weird, shouldn_ _’t it? It just… doesn’t._

“You should probably take another bath,” Hannibal murmured, adjusting his position so Will could lay more comfortably against him. “Would you like me to start one for you? It will help you stay warm until the medication kicks back in.” Will hesitated, unwilling to admit he was comfortable where he was. Hannibal laughed, rubbing along the back of the profiler’s neck. He uncontrollably shivered, nestling closer as he listened to Hannibal’s voice rumble through his chest. “While you are correct, it _is_ very comfortable out here… you need to be warmer than you are. A bath will do you some good.” Will squeezed his eyes shut, his cheeks flaming. _It won_ _’t hurt to ask._

“Can we-” Hannibal nodded before he finished.

“If you still want to return to the couch when you are finished, we can,” he replied, his voice low and as soothing as his touch. “If you become drowsy, you can lay in bed and I will read to you until you fall asleep. It’s best you get as much sleep as you can, while you can.” Will stilled.

“What do you mean?” Hannibal smiled, tracing small circles against the back of the profiler’s neck. 

“Only that Jack plans to interrupt your recuperation with a file on the murders he’s currently investigating,” he replied, his voice turning to steel. “I managed to stave him off from showing up today, but I will need to pick up the file for you to analyze tomorrow morning.” The long, dexterous fingers continued their trek up and down the column of Will’s neck, gentle presses into the tense muscles raising goosebumps on his skin. Will tried to keep still, but a small moan escaped his lips before he could swallow the sound. Hannibal smiled against his hair, saying nothing but infinitely pleased. _Skin starved. Something else we have in common._ Will relaxed, allowing his full weight to fall against Hannibal’s body. He sighed and burrowed further beneath the blanket.

“Go figure,” he murmured, coughing into his hand. “He can’t take a shit without asking me about it.” Hannibal laughed, the rumble comforting against Wills skin. _Jesus, stop. You can_ _’t get attached. He’s not yours._ The thought made him ache, his very blood thrumming at the painful idea that everything they shared would come to an end. _I don_ _’t want to think about it. I will still want him. I want him to be mine._ “I’ll get up in just a few minutes. Is that okay?” Hannibal nodded, working his hand down along Will’s back, closing his eyes as the profiler melted against him with another small, trapped moan.

“Of course,” he replied. “I didn’t mean you had to get up right this minute. I’m rather… enjoying this.” Butterflies exploded in Will’s stomach. _He_ _’s enjoying this. Enjoying touching me, even though he’s not getting anything out of it. Maybe…_

“Thanks, Hannibal,” he whispered. Settling into the rhythmic massage, Will closed his eyes, letting his trepidation go, just for a little while. 

He was asleep within minutes. 

Hannibal allowed him to slumber, his mind wandering through the events that had transpired between them in such a short amount of time, marveling that their unusual circumstances. _If he knew what I fed him, he would not be so quick to lay in my arms_ he thought, amused. _No matter now, though. Some secrets are meant to be kept by only one._

_***_

“The water is likely to be hot, so please be careful,” Hannibal called to Will from the bedroom. Hannibal had let him sleep peacefully, browsing professional articles on his phone while trying not to be so affected by Will’s admission of his desire to stay as they were. It was only as his temperature continued to rise that the doctor had shaken him gently, insisting it was time he took a bath. Will had protested feebly, winding his arms around Hannibal’s torso in an effort to keep them where they were. It had taken a monumental amount of self control for Hannibal to keep himself from carrying the profiler to the bedroom. _He may not appreciate the effort a second time._ Instead he had stood and started the bath, coaxing the profiler from beneath the blankets with the promise that the water would help ease the aches from his body. Will had finally relented, but had been barely able to stand. Hannibal had looped the other man’s arm around his neck and helped him to the bathroom, only narrowly escaping before Will began to undress, eager to sink beneath the heat of the water. Instead , Hannibal moved into the bedroom as his heart beat painfully against his ribs. He listened for Will’s footsteps, and heard the splash as he managed to get his foot over the edge of the ancient claw foot tub, sinking beneath the steamy water with a sigh. Hannibal sat in the recliner, his mind racing. An unbidden and wholly inappropriate thought had risen within his mind, and now that the image was there, it was almost impossible to remove it. In the fantasy, he saw himself climbing into the water with Will, pulling him against his chest, much as they’d relaxed together on the couch. Their state of undress and his reaction to it was nothing like he’d ever felt for another human being, rising within him in a wave of feral, animal hunger. He wanted to stroke Will’s skin beneath the water, pull him close and watch his mouth fall open in pleasure.

The moan that escaped the bathroom didn’t help matters as it eased itself through Hannibal’s mind, the sound unconsciously creating a different scenario from which the sound originated; Will’s legs wrapped around him as Hannibal sank into the heat of his body, his face buried against the profiler’s throat as he was enveloped in the most intimate of embraces, rocking into him until Will pleaded with him to come. The fantasy cascaded through him like a velvet hand, his cock filling painfully in his slacks. Need clawed its way down his spine th0, pulsing in an aching wave. He tried in vain to get himself under some semblance of control but the delightful sounds coming from the bathroom made it nearly impossible to concentrate on the task. _God on high, I want you._

“Hannibal?” The feeble, scratchy voice that drifted from the bathroom made his heart pound. _He has no idea how appealing he is_ _… nor how much it sounds like he’s spent the last few hours calling my name for an entirely different reason._ Hannibal didn’t dare to stand just yet, instead running a hand through his hair. He took a deep, steadying breath before answering.

“Yes?” The gentle splash of Will sitting up in the water poured from the bathroom before the reply came.

“I need to wash my hair. It’s getting greasy and clinging to my face. I can’t… I can’t really do it myself. Every part of my body hurts right now.” Another beautiful, fretful pause came before the profiler continued. “I hate to ask… but can you help?” 

Hannibal’s very soul groaned. More than anything, he wanted to go into the bathroom and take hold of the man inside, pin him against the back of the tub and kiss the life from him, stroke his skin, make him come in the hot water as he stole the breath from his lungs, swallowed his fretful cries. He wanted it so much, it made his entire body ache. The invitation for just a taste of his desires… could he even try to resist? He knew the answer before it crossed his mind. _Of course. He is impossible to resist._

He stood on shaking legs and made his way to the bathroom, carefully adjusting his slacks to hide the kindling erection still pressed against the material. He took a deep, steadying breath before entering the warm, damp space. Will lay with his eyes closed in the low light, his head against the edge of the tub. Hannibal’s stomach clenched with need. _God on high. Will the torment never cease?_ He knocked lightly before entering the room. Will opened his eyes slowly, a soft smile spreading over his face. Even sick, Will was one of the most attractive men he had ever met; the mix of boyishness and strength enough to make Hannibal’s blood sing.

“I appreciate your help,” Will murmured. The sound clung to the damp space, giving meaning to the words that wasn’t truly there. Hannibal smiled gently and moved behind the tub to where Will was resting his head.

“It’s no problem at all,” he replied, reaching for Will’s shampoo. The label showed it to be some generic store brand, but the scent was instantly cataloged away in Hannibal’s memory palace. _How Will_ _’s shampoo smells._ He wet his hands in the water and touched the profiler’s curls to ensure they were damp before attempting to work the shampoo through. Gritting his teeth, he rubbed the shampoo through his hands, working it into a foaming lather. The very act of helping Will bathe was more intimate than all of the sexual encounters he had experienced in his lifetime, made more so by the sounds of contentment that issued forth from the profiler’s throat as he worked the bubbles through his curls. For long minutes, he massaged the shampoo through each strand, his nails scratching lightly against Will’s scalp. 

When he was satisfied that Will’s hair was clean, Hannibal cleared his throat. “That should suffice, if you’d like to rinse.”

Will ducked beneath the water, cleaning the soap from his hair. Hannibal’s heart raced as he tried and failed to keep his eyes from the glimpses of Will’s skin, tantalizing beneath the glimmer of soapy water. The profiler surfaced, wiping his face with his hands before leaning back into the side of the tub with a sigh. Hannibal’s hands shook as he opened the conditioner, dispensing it into his hands before working it through Will’s now clean curls. 

“Conditioner needs to sit in your hair for a few minutes for it to work properly,” Hannibal said, his fingers massaging Will’s temples and forehead as they waited. The fever had once again receded during his time in the bath, leaving Will’s skin warm but no longer burning. Hannibal let his fingers trail across the profiler’s cheeks and down to his neck, kneading away the tension beneath the skin. They sat in quiet contentment for some time before Will chose to break the silence.

“You’re very easy to be around,” he murmured, relaxing into Hannibal’s touch. “I didn’t expect that when I realized you planned to stay here with me.” Hannibal breathed in the scent of Will’s skin and the shampoo, allowing it to calm his nerves as he attempted to formulate an appropriate response.

“What exactly were you expecting from me?” he inquired, helping the profiler slide lower so he could rinse the conditioner from his hair. When he surfaced, Will wiped his face and leaned back, his eyes drifting closed. He seemed visibly relaxed now that he was clean. Hannibal’s hands returned to his skin, massaging along his shoulders and neck. _God in heaven, you feel divine._

“Not this,” Will replied after a time. “Formal and uncomfortable to be around. Clinical and sterile. Instead, you’re warm and funny and kind. I didn’t expect…” Will realized he was still talking, and stopped, visibly shaken at the admission. “Never mind.” Hannibal’s hands trembled as he continued his gentle massage. 

“Didn’t expect what, exactly?” Will groaned and kept his eyes closed. 

“Never mind. I shouldn’t have said anything.” It stung. Hannibal was surprised that it hurt, but it did. He removed his hands from Will’s skin, wiping them dry on a towel. 

“Did you need anything else?” Will flushed, embarrassed. _He thinks I_ _’m pushing him away. How can I describe how I’m feeling, though? Where are the words?_

“No, I’m okay,” he said, his voice small. “I should be done in the next few minutes.” Hannibal nodded and stood, making his way to the door. As he was about to escape the oppressive heat of the bathroom, Will called his name. He turned slowly, meeting the rheumy blue eyes with his own carefully guarded gaze.

“Yes?” Will hesitated, taking a breath before continuing.

“I didn’t expect to like you as much as I do.” He closed his eyes and leaned back, his cheeks flaming with color. “I didn’t expect to want you to be here, but now I don’t know what I’ll do when you leave.” 

_Oh._ For the first time in his life, Hannibal had no response. He turned and retreated to the bedroom, lost in his own desperate thoughts. _What would you do if you knew I never want to leave? What then?_ The more he thought on it, the more Hannibal realized he didn’t have an answer to that either.


	5. Something Real

Hannibal had never hated mornings more than he did at that moment. He had woken on the couch, wrapped in a blanket that smelled of Will, the fire he started after tucking the profiler into bed burning low in the grey light of early morning. The sun wasn’t yet up, but if he didn’t get the day started, he’d never make it to Jack’s office in time to meet him, which would likely mean an unnecessary house visit. 

When he stole inside Will’s bedroom to check on him and make use of his shower, the profiler had still been asleep, his hair in an artful disarray against the pillow, one arm thrown above him in wild abandon. Sleep took ten years off his face, his features relaxed into a soft, almost angelic visage. Standing in the doorway, Hannibal’s entire body ached with longing. He had a wild vision of sliding beneath the sheets to pin the arm in place, slowly waking Will with gentle kisses and caresses before satisfying him with his mouth. They could rest after, sleep as long as Will wished. He wanted to wrap the profiler in his arms, hold him while he rested, the desire so sharp, it physically hurt to deny himself. _What has become of my self control? What is it about him that makes me want him more than I want to breathe?_

The urge had been so strong that Hannibal had taken two steps into the room before he remembered himself. Even then, it had barely stopped him. Will looked so perfectly safe and comfortable, it had been almost impossible to resist him. It had taken every ounce of self control he possessed and a very cold shower to shock him back into reality. By the time he had crawled from its depths, shivering in the early morning air, he had had to hurry to ensure he wasn’t late. Throwing on the first thing he found to be remotely acceptable in his suitcase, he ran a comb through his hair, dismayed that he’d be going with it wet. _I may be laying in that bed next,_ he thought with dismay. _But it_ _’s almost worth it, just to see you so perfectly at ease._

Huddled over a cup of gas station coffee he had picked up on the way, Hannibal made his way through his department at the Bureau, stopping momentarily to collect some files from his office before making his way to Jack’s. He administered three quick knocks to the door, opening it without waiting for an invitation. Jack turned, surprised. When he saw it was Hannibal, he waved him in, gesturing to the seat before his desk. Hannibal sank into the chair, perusing one of the files he collected while Jack finished up his shouting match with the obviously groveling man on the other end of the phone. He hung up unceremoniously, a frustrated breath escaping him, before meeting Hannibal’s eyes. With a small smile, Jack extended his hand in greeting.

“Good morning, Doctor Lecter,” he said, his annoyance still prominent in his voice. “Thanks for meeting me at such an early hour.” Hannibal smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. He rose slightly from his seat to shake Jack’s hand briefly before once again taking his seat. _Considering the alternative, I_ _’d meet you anywhere and at any hour, just so you can’t get to Will._

“Hello, Agent Crawford. It is not an issue, I assure you. I’m always happy to be of service.” Jack nodded and turned to grab a folder from his desk, flipping it open before holding it out to Hannibal. The doctor took it, opening it for a brief moment to peruse its contents before adding it to the stack he was taking home with him. Jack watched him, his face unreadable, but impatience radiating from every pore in his body. Hannibal mentally braced himself, knowing the question that was coming before the other man spoke.

“ When do you think-”

“I will have the notes on the case back to you this afternoon,” Hannibal cut through the question curtly. “If you’re wondering when Will is going to be back on his feet and ready to save the day at your side, I’d say he’s got another few days. We are quite honestly lucky to have caught the cold and his exhaustion at such an early stage. I haven’t told him yet, but there is a good chance it could have turned into pneumonia.” Jack’s face flushed, and for a brief moment, he had the grace to appear contrite. _As you should. He isn_ _’t needed on half of what you drag him through, especially when you know the cost to him._

“Is there anything he needs from us?” he asked, meeting Hannibal’s fearsome stare with his own unaffected gaze.

“Rest and peace are the two best things for him right now, at least for the next few days,” he replied, his blood pulsing hotly through his veins. _And as much time away from this place as I can convince him to take._ “Until then, should you need anything from either of us, please facilitate your requests through me so I can ensure they’re given proper attention.” Jack nodded, watching Hannibal’s face soften at his acquiescence.

“Why did you choose to take such an interest in his illness, Doctor?” he inquired. “From what I’ve been able to surmise, you two didn’t know one another very well beforehand.” _Ahh, Jack. An old and boring card to play. How_ _… disappointing._

“It was not the illness, but the man, Agent,” he replied without hesitation. “I find Will to be a remarkably interesting person. His condition simply gave me the opportunity to confirm my theory.” He stood, offering his hand to the man behind the desk. “I must be getting back. Is there anything else you need at this time?” Jack stared for a long moment before taking Hannibal’s hand.

“No, thank you Doctor. Please tell Will that we wish him well. And-”

“You’ll have your notes this afternoon,” Hannibal cut in for the second time. “I know it’s relatively urgent and I will ensure you get what you need. Good day, Jack.” Hannibal strode through the room, ignoring the odd glances he got from those seated within earshot of Jack’s office. Very few would have ventured to talk to their head of department the way he did, and fewer still would have gotten through it without being verbally eviscerated for their troubles. Hannibal seemed capable of escaping Jack’s wrath, instead expressing his own. Jack took a seat, thinking upon their encounter, trying to convince himself he wasn’t as shaken as he was. While he was unsure of Hannibal’s intentions towards Will, one thing had been made absolutely certain. He would need to tread lightly where the doctor and his interests were concerned.

***

Hannibal made his way up the walk to Will’s house, the bag of groceries he carried balanced carefully in the same hand that clutched the files he had collected that morning. The bag of additional clothing he retrieved from his home was slung over one shoulder, the imbalance in weight causing him to lean precariously to one side as he made his way slowly towards the house, panting at his exertions. _Just a few more steps._ When the door opened and closed once more, Hannibal relieved himself of his burdens, rotating his shoulder to release the tension from the load. Bending, he untied his shoes, slipping them off before hanging his jacket on the peg next to Will’s hunting jacket. The sight of their coats hung side by side did funny, painful things to his heart. _Don_ _’t become maudlin. You have better ways of focusing your attention._

“Hannibal? Is that you?” called a hoarse, but decidedly stronger voice from the living room. The doctor smiled, his pain entirely forgotten in the pleasant swoop in his stomach. _I have missed being here. I_ _’ve missed you. I know it’s odd, but it doesn’t make it less true._ He picked up his bags and deposited groceries onto the kitchen counter before making his way to the living room with the files. The sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks and for a moment, Hannibal forgot how to breathe. Will lay curled beneath a blanket in his corner of the couch, looking tousled and tired, but brighter than he had in days. Wrapped in his arms was Winston, one of the profiler’s many strays, at peace in his owner’s embrace. Will let his warm sleepy gaze wash unconsciously over Hannibal’s form in fond familiarity, his eyes lingering here and there on their trek across his form. Hannibal’s skin burned. _God on high, those eyes. I want you to always look at me like that._

“Good morning, Will,” he managed. “You’re looking better today. How do you feel?” Hannibal breathed out, impressed with himself when his voice came out unaffected. The profiler smiled, a hand stroking unconsciously through the fur of his companion. Winston’s eyes closed in quiet contentment, comfortably leaning into his master’s body as he was petted. 

“The fever seems to have broken,” he responded, swirling patterns in Winston’s fur with his fingers. “I’m still not a hundred percent. I’ll probably need a few more days for that, but I’m getting there.” 

“I’m glad to hear it,” Hannibal replied, relieved. They stared at one another for a beat, both unconsciously soaking in the relief of being back in eachother’s presence. _Would it always feel like this? To come home to him each day? Would we find a way to make it feel like this?_

Finally, Hannibal cleared his throat, breaking the fragile moment. “I brought you the case notes from Jack.” He held the file aloft. “I thought we might go over them after I’ve gotten some food and another round of medication into you.” Will nodded, closing his eyes. The beautiful smile slipped from his features, some of the energy drained away in a single sentence. Hannibal wished desperately to take it back. _I should have told him no. You owe him nothing._

“Was Jack… was he upset with me when you saw him?” he asked, his voice small and worried. Hannibal raised an eyebrow, dropping the file out of Will’s reach on the table next to the armchair.

“Why would Jack be upset with you?” he inquired, making his way back to the kitchen to put away the groceries he had brought.

“Because we are in the middle of an investigation, and I’m not there to help,” Will called. Hannibal snorted, retrieving a carton of eggs from the refrigerator.

“You can help plenty from exactly where you are,” he replied fiercely. “There is no need for you to push yourself and end up needing more time away than you already do.” Poking his head around the corner to meet the tired, cerulean gaze, he added, “you’re very dedicated Will, but you don’t need to be at a crime scene to see. You can tell me what you glean from the photos and forensics notes, we will discuss it, and I will compile our conclusions to send to Jack. If he has questions, he can respond and we will discuss them.” Will nodded, looking unconvinced. The look was enough to send Hannibal’s heart out of rhythm. _You_ _’re still important. In more ways than you could possibly know._

“You’re still doing your job,” Hannibal said gently. “Do not be hard on yourself.” Will tipped his head back against the pillows, the ones Hannibal had used for his own sleep the night before. With a sudden lurch, he noted that the blanket currently wrapped around his thin shoulders was the one the doctor had been loathe to leave that morning. _As if it were the same for you. Wrapped up in my presence, even when I am not physically here to comfort you._

“You’re right,” Will mumbled. “God knows you are, but… I feel…”

“Don’t.” Placing the eggs on the counter, Hannibal made his way to the couch. He took a seat, shifting until he could take Will’s face between his hands. Will stared at him with wide blue eyes, trying to look unaffected and failing miserably, something unreadable passing through his features as he relaxed into the doctor’s gentle grip.

“Don’t do this to yourself,” Hannibal breathed, fighting the urge to kiss Will’s forehead. “You will be back at it in no time, but until then, you need to do as I say. Rest. Let me lighten your burdens. Go back when you are once again at full strength.” Will nodded, his eyes sliding shut. He leaned into Hannibal’s touch, his stubble rasping gently against the doctor’s fingers. Hannibal released the profiler’s jaw to card them through the soft curls crowning his head.

“Let yourself heal,” Hannibal whispered. “Please.” Will nodded, his body relaxing into the couch and Hannibal’s presence. _What is it about this time together that seems to affect us both?_ He mused, continuing to run his hands through the profiler’s hair. _How is it that we have come to crave proximity after such a short time?_ Troubled Hannibal stood, a gentle smile playing on his lips.

“I’m going to make you something to eat and bring your medication. We can go over the crime scene together and I will send Jack your notes. Is that acceptable?” Will nodded, his eyes glassy with relaxation. _What I wouldn_ _’t give to have that look on your face for an entirely different reason. I want you, even when and especially because you need me._

“Yes. That’s- that will be fine. Thank you, Hannibal.” The doctor’s blood pulsed in his veins, sending sparks shooting into his scalp at the sound of his name on Will’s lips.

“You’re most welcome. I’ll be just a few minutes.” Will curled on his side, drawing Winston to him like a security blanket. Hannibal walked back to the kitchen, heart in his throat, and tried to remember who he had been before taking on the task of caring for Will in his sickness. _It no longer matters,_ he realized with a lurch _. I am not that man anymore. I am something new, and there is no going back to who I was before._

***

“Is there anything else you can see?” Hannibal asked, his elegant handwriting looping over the legal pad he had sourced to take notes. He and Will had been talking about the case, going over the photographs one by one. As thoughts came to him, the doctor wrote them down in a form of shorthand they all used to communicate ideas, but his handwriting made the details far more elegant than they truly were. Will inwardly groaned as he watched the doctor write, the words curling over the page as if his words were being transcribed by an 18th century scholar. _Everything about you is so enticing. I could sit here and watch you write like that for hours._ Covering a cough with his hand, Will reached for his cup, taking a long sip of water from the straw Hannibal had purchased while at the store. He closed his eyes, letting himself be transported into the woods, staring up at the bodies as they swayed in the trees. _Brunettes this time. Not redheads. He_ _’s creating a color pattern._

“He cares about a blonde,” he said finally. “The woman that’s special to him is blonde. That’s the last group we are going to find, and she will likely be prominently displayed amongst them.” He paused, taking another sip as Hannibal added the tidbit to his notes. “Did Jack mention if they’d looked into the soil samples from the feet? He’s not hunting them where they’re hung. He’s got a special place, a killing ground. All the samples he finds and tests will be from the same area. If he can find the forest, he will be able to put an end to this.” Hannibal nodded, continuing to make notes. Will watched him with a quiet, restrained longing, his heart pulsing in his throat. Feeling the weight of his gaze, the doctor glanced up. Will looked away, a blush staining his cheeks a soft pink. 

Hannibal smiled, a secretive lift of the corner of his lips as he watched Will’s struggles. _Do not worry. We are almost finished and you will soon have my attention to yourself._ Surveying his notes, he nodded, satisfied at the results. _Jack will have what he needs. If he doesn_ _’t, it can wait._ He set aside the pad, stretching back against the armchair. Will watched beneath his lashes, desire etched into his handsome features. They didn’t speak for several minutes, instead letting the quiet hug around them, wrapping them in a fragile embrace. Hannibal finally cleared his throat, collecting the notes he made and tucking them into the file.

“Quite enough of that for the day,” he said, standing. “I’ll put these on the dining table and compile them later.” When he returned, Will smiled tiredly up at him from his place on the couch. The smudges under his eyes had returned in sharp relief, dark against his pale skin. _You need rest and relaxation. I want to give you everything you need._

“What now, Doctor?” he asked, a hint of exhaustion from the toll his work took on him in his voice. Hannibal returned the smile, his insides churning with a protectiveness he hadn’t felt since… _since Mischa. What is it about you that makes me feel like I do?_

“I think you should get some fresh air, if you’re up for it,” he replied. “I’d recommend taking your blanket with you, and we can sit on the porch and talk for a time. If you are too tired to talk, we will sit and enjoy the sun while it is at its peak.” Will nodded, pleased. “When we come in,” Hannibal continued, “I will start a fire and we can do whatever you wish until dinner.” Will’s stomach tightened at the words ‘whatever you wish’. _You might not say that if you knew what I truly want,_ he thought, his cheeks flaring to life once more. 

“Okay. I- yeah. I’d like that.” Standing, he wrapped the blanket firmly around his shoulders and followed Hannibal to the porch. With the utmost care, the doctor helped him into his seat, tucking the blankets around him before turning back to the door.

“Rest here. I won’t be a moment,” the doctor said. Hannibal disappeared back into the house, leaving Will to his thoughts. He took a deep breath of the cool, crisp air, closing his eyes to the glare of the sun. Something about being outdoors always seemed to settle him, even when he could only be there for a short time. His thoughts churned beneath the calm surface of his mind as he relaxed in the sunshine, waiting for Hannibal to return. When he did, he was carrying two steaming mugs of tea. Will accepted his cup with a murmured thanks, breathing in the sweet, spicy scent wafting from the cup. He turned to Hannibal with a small smile.

“What kind of tea is this?” he asked, curious. He’d never smelled anything quite like it. Hannibal took a small sip, closing his eyes contentedly as he enjoyed the flavors as they rioted across his palate.

“It’s sweet cinnamon,” he responded after a moment. “An old family remedy that covers a variety of maladies, colds amongst them. I picked some up when out shopping this morning with the hope that it would aid in your recovery.” Will took a small sip, intrigued. The spices danced across his tongue, chased by a light sweetness; it was a combination he had never experienced. The flavor was altogether soothing, warming him from his lips down to his toes. He made an unconscious sound of contentment deep in his throat as he took another sip, his eyes slipping closed. Hannibal sipped from his own cup, watching him fondly from the corner of his eye.

“This is wonderful,” he remarked after a time. “Who taught you about it?” The doctor paused, thinking for a moment before he responded.

“It was my mother’s favorite,” he replied, a note of sadness in his words. “You would have liked her. A bright soul amongst so much darkness of my home country.” Hannibal took another sip, allowing himself to be transported back to his mother’s kitchen, the light pouring through the windows and shining off her favorite copper pot. “She thought cinnamon cured everything.” Will laughed, taking another sip from the cup, the steam curling around him and into the air in fragrant wisps.

“She seems like a wonderful person,” he said. Hannibal nodded, his eyes distant as he remembered.

“She was. She passed many years ago.” The sorrow in his voice made Will pause. Although curious, he didn’t want to push too far.

“She was murdered, along with my father.” Hannibal continued, answering the unasked question. Will’s eyes widened, but Hannibal carried on, intent on getting through painful memories. “I’m sure you have surmised by now that I did not grow up in the United States. My home was in Lithuania. It was a very different place than here, and although my family commanded the respect of the villagers in the nearby area, the same couldn’t be said for those who wandered the countryside as deserters from the armies that chose to bully and oppress. Civil unrest was common in those days.” He paused, taking another sip before continuing. 

“My family was taken from me in our home. My mother and father, eventually Mischa too. She was my sister,” he added, his eyes distant. “The light of my life, the only person I’ve cared for since… _You. Since I_ _’ve come to know you._ He let the sentence trail away, lost in the memories. 

“They kept me as a servant for some time. It took me many months to escape. I ran and eventually made it to my uncle’s estate. It was he who raised me.” Will’s heart contracted, squeezing gently at the idea of Hannibal running from the horrors he suffered, shocked and in pain before finally reaching safety. _God. I would have never known._

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-” Hannibal shook his head.

“Do not trouble yourself. It was a long time ago. Had I not wanted to share, I wouldn’t have told you.” Hannibal turned in his chair, meeting the profiler’s gentle gaze. “It’s… nice. Talking of them. It makes me feel closer to them than I have in many years.” Will nodded in understanding, taking another sip from his cup.

“She was right, you know. I already feel better.” The doctor smiled. They sat in silence for a time, lost in thought. The sun slipped behind the trees, cloaking the porch in shadows before either of them came back to themselves. The air had grown colder around them and Hannibal stood, collecting their empty cups with one of his gentle, secretive smiles. Will’s heart tried to pound itself to pieces at the sight.

“It would be best to go in now, I think. You don’t want to catch a chill out here and end up worse than you already are. Shall I start you a bath?” Will nodded, standing carefully to ensure he didn’t step on the blanket. 

“A bath would be wonderful,” he murmured, wrapping the warm material around him like a cloak. “I’m feeling quite tired. I would like to rest when I’m finished.” Hannibal nodded, watching Will with careful eyes as he made his way over the threshold.

“Of course, Will. Whatever you need.”

They closed the door behind them, leaving the cold and their memories firmly on the other side.

***

Late that evening, Will awoke to a gentle shake to his shoulder. He looked around blearily, trying to get his bearings. He wanted to sink back into the warm comfort of his current location, but the hand shaking him awake wasn’t allowing it. _Nrg. Want to sleep. Why won_ _’t you let me sleep?_ Glancing up, he realized he had fallen against Hannibal at some point in his slumber and was once again resting firmly on the doctor’s chest. Hannibal was watching him struggle with consciousness, amusement plain in his maroon gaze. For a moment, they simply watched eachother, letting the time stretch and settle between them, delicate as feathers.

“What time is is?” Will finally asked, stifling a yawn. Hannibal set aside the book he had been reading, letting Will relax back against him. His stomach swooped, electric curls of excitement running through him with the knowledge that Will was choosing to settle into his arms even though he was now fully awake. _Too early. I want you to remain just where you are. Stay and rest while I hold you._

“Nearing eleven, I believe,” he responded, a hand coming up to card through Will’s curls. The profiler’s head dropped back against his chest as he groaned, leaning into the gentle caress. Hannibal tried desperately to slow his pulse as he massaged the base of Will’s neck, relishing in the hitch in the profiler’s throat. _God, your sounds. You don_ _’t even know you’re making them, do you? I could touch you just like this for as long as you wish, just so you’ll continue to make those sounds._

“Can’t I just sleep here?” he pleaded. “I’m already comfortable.” Hannibal chuckled, the sound rumbling through Will’s ear like thunder. He shifted his weight to settle back against the couch and without thinking, Will wrapped an arm around the doctor’s waist, resting his head comfortably on his sternum. He sighed, content just as he was until Hannibal once again interrupted.

“You can rest for a few more minutes, but you really need to move to the bedroom,” the voice against his ear stated. “You need to sleep well so you can get your strength back.” Hannibal hid a smile in Will’s curls, placing a gentle kiss to the top of his head as the profiler stubbornly snuggled closer.

“Twenty more minutes?” he asked, his voice small and rough. The doctor settled back, pulling him closer.

“How about fifteen, and I’ll help you to bed?” he countered. _I don_ _’t want to let you go just yet._ He could feel Will smiling against his chest as he breathed deeply, pulling the scent of Hannibal’s cologne into his lungs. _You smell like home._

“Deal.”

***

The fifteen minutes that passed were the shortest in Hannibal’s existence. It seemed that they had just settled back together, their legs tangling beneath the blanket as the fire crackled warmly in the grate, when it was time for him to get Will to bed. He raised his hand to shake the other man’s shoulder, but Will was once again deeply asleep, his breathing soft and even. For a moment, he contemplated leaving him where he was, but thought better of it as a twitch of pain chased its way across Will’s features. _No, he really does need to rest, and the couch will not suffice._ Reluctantly, he released the man in his arms, gently shaking him.

“Will.” The grumble that issued from the blanket make his heart clench as he tried in vain not to smile. He shook the blanket covered shoulder a little harder.

“Will, it’s been longer than either of us intended. You need to lay down in bed.” 

“No. Comfy here.” Hannibal’s stomach trembled beneath the profiler’s hands as he wound his arms tighter.

“You need better sleep than you’re going to get-”

“With you?” All the breath in the doctor’s lungs seemed to seep from his body, leaving him lightheaded and unsure if he heard correctly. _Did_ _… did he…_

“No… I’ll be on the couch, not far away. If you-”

“Please. I- I don’t want to sleep alone again tonight. Sleep better when you’re there.”

“I can sleep in the armchair-”

“No.”

“But-”

“No,” the profiler retorted stubbornly. “Sleep next to me, in bed. It’s large enough to share, and you said it yourself. Better sleep _in bed_.”

“Will…” The sigh that escaped the profiler’s chest wormed it’s way into Hannibal’s already weakened resolve. _God save us all, I cannot resist you._

“Please.” 

The single word lanced through his heart. Hannibal tried for reason, but all the arguments he could have had seemed to have escaped with that single word. _Had I just carried you to bed, this would not be happening. I could have tucked you in and relegated myself to the safety provided to me out here._ When the arm around him tightened again, all the reasons why it was a bad idea faded to the background, leaving him empty and aching. _If you only understood what I would do for you, what I would give you._ Hannibal’s resolve crumbled to dust at the gentle sigh of contentment that issued from the blanket.

_“_ Fine. I will sleep next to you, but only so you can sleep well. Understood?” Will hummed low in his throat, his grip tightening once more.

“Okay. Thank you.” Hannibal placed another small kiss on the profiler’s curls before pushing his shoulder once again.

“That means we have to go to the bedroom. You still can’t sleep out here.” The grumble that came from where the profiler lay curled against his chest made him smile in response.

“Come on, Will. Let’s go to bed.”

***

Will shifted nervously beneath the covers, watching the light beneath bathroom door where Hannibal had disappeared only minutes before. He hadn’t been nervous at his request until he hit the cold sheets, the shock on his heated skin waking him enough for the full force of his boldness to hit him like ice water. _Oh god. We are going to share a bed. Holy shit. Am I out of my mind? I don_ _’t know how to act, how to sleep with someone anymore._ His mind spiraled out of control as the minutes passed, the sounds in the bathroom no comfort to his suddenly panicked mind. _Oh lord, what if I snore? What if he snores? What if he tries to hog the covers?_

Before he could send himself further down a spiral, the door to the bathroom opened. Hannibal emerged in a cloud of fragrant steam, looking warm and so comfortable, Will wanted to weep. He was wearing a pair of blue lounge pants and a white t shirt, the combination sending a spike of pure lust through Will’s being. In his sudden panic, Will hadn’t realized that Hannibal had taken a shower. His eyes lingered on the damp tendrils of hair clinging to the doctor’s handsome face, small droplets of water sliding down his neck. He wanted to lick them off, listen to the hitch in the doctor’s throat as he explored the taste of his skin. 

Their eyes met and for a moment; the doctor smiled hesitantly.

“Are you sure about this, Will? I won’t mind in the slightest if you’d prefer me to sleep in the armchair.” Hannibal gestured to where it sat next to the bed. “It’s surprisingly quite comfortable.” Will shook his head, his heart thumping.

“N-No. I want you to get some proper rest, too. And…” he took a deep breath, rushing through the words before he could stop himself. “I want you to sleep here. Next to me.” Hannibal nodded, his smile softening.

“ As long as you are okay.” He made his way to the other side of the bed, sitting gingerly on the edge before speaking again.

“I- I usually sleep without a shirt, if that suits. I run warm.” Will swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. _What would it feel like to rest against Hannibal_ _’s bare chest? Feel the warmth of his skin against mine?_

“That’s-” the profiler coughed into his hand to cover his sudden nervousness. “That’s fine. I want you to be comfortable.” Hannibal nodded, pulling the material over his head without a second thought. It took everything in Will not to stare at the expanse of skin suddenly visible to his gaze. _God. He_ _’s perfect. Everything about him is… perfect._ Hannibal switched off the light before sliding beneath the covers, pulling them up to his chest. The sudden heat on the other side of the bed rolled across the profiler’s skin like a warm bath; Will’s mind short circuited, the need to roll over and curl against that liquid heat overwhelming. _Please- oh please, I want-_ Hannibal sighed as he settled back into the covers. Will held his breath, waiting.

“Come here, Will. Please.” The low, honeyed voice washed through him, making Will tremble with need. Slowly, he inched across the unacknowledged space between them. Hannibal gathered the profiler into his arms, arranging them so they lay much as they had on the couch. The touch of his bare skin beneath Will’s hands was unbearably good. Will let his head rest comfortably in the crook of Hannibal’s neck, breathing in the scent of his skin. An arm snaked around his back to hold him, Hannibal’s thumb gently caressing the skin along his spine. They lay there in the silence, letting their hearts settle together. Will let his fingers trail through the coarse hair adorning Hannibal’s chest, petting. _Christ- god I can_ _’t wait-_

“Can I kiss you?” Will could feel surprise radiate from Hannibal’s skin, pouring over him like oil. Hannibal turned his head fractionally and cupped Will’s jaw in his slim, dexterous fingers. Their noses bumped gently together as they sought that first, fragile connection. Will raised his fingertips up to brush along Hannibal’s lips, and when he found what he sought, he replaced them with his mouth. 

_Oh._

The world went silent around them as their lips brushed together, a quiet press that stopped Hannibal’s heart. He suddenly didn’t care if he never saw another person again. He never wanted to leave the bed. Will let out a small, desperate breath, and sealed their lips, deepening the contact. Hannibal groaned into the profiler’s mouth and rolled them over, pressing Will back against the pillows as their mouths stroked, tongues flashing together in quiet desperation. _Yes. I want you. I want it all._ They kissed until their jaws ached, their breath coming out in ragged gasps between them. Hannibal could feel his cock fill out and ache, pressing against an answering hardness that stole the air from his lungs. _It would be so easy to take you, make you fall apart in my arms. In time._

Gently disengaging himself from the profiler’s embrace, Hannibal rolled onto his back and pulled the other man into his arms. Will’s head found the crook of his shoulder, and he nosed it fondly before settling. Hannibal held him, letting their heartbeats settle as he ran gentle fingers down Will’s spine.

“You are incredible,” Will murmured against his neck. Hannibal smiled, tilting the profiler’s face to let their lips stroke softly.

“You are kind, darling. And you need sleep. Words in the morning.” Will smiled against his neck.

“Mmm. Words in the morning. G’night, Hannibal.” The doctor smiled, letting his eyes fall closed.

“Good night, Will. Sleep well.”


	6. Best Medicine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who have read this story before, I highly encourage you to start from the beginning. I have gone through and done some extensive editing to it to make it better and more cohesive. 
> 
> Since so much of my writing occurs into the late hours of the night, I don't always take the time to really edit until I'm writing the final chapters. I appreciate your kindness with this particular tale- it needed more editing than most.
> 
> PendingCorpse, darling. This chapter, and this entire story is for you. Thank you for being patient while perfected the ending for you. Your wonderful comments on my stories always brighten my days. I only hope I can do the same. 🤍

The morning began before the sun rose in the sky, the echoing call of a loon sounding from far off in the distance. Will stirred for a moment in Hannibal’s arms, but did not wake. 

The first time he surfaced into consciousness, the warm press of skin against his own didn’t feel quite real. Delicious heat lapped along his back where he lay curled up on one side, hands tucked by his head. _Mm. Warm._ The thought soothed through his mind like honey, clinging and curling around him, hugging him. He had never felt so comfortable in his entire life. With a small sigh, Will snuggled down into the warmth and fell back to sleep.

The second time he awoke, he had turned over onto his stomach, his pillow shifted to one side so he could cling to it like a lover. The sheets were bunched up around his waist, leaving his shoulders and back bare to the chill in the air, but somehow he didn’t feel cold. Too tired to open his eyes, Will stretched his legs and let sleep pull him back into its embrace.

It took a third attempt for his eyes to remain open. Blinking blearily into the golden light of late morning, Will glanced around the room. It felt different, laying in bed at this hour when he was usually so early to rise. He watched with detached fascination as dust motes danced through shafts of sunlight that poured through his windows. Will arched his back in a long, satisfying stretch; he felt feline, warm and liquidly relaxed. A small, soft noise of contentment escaped his throat, sounding almost like a purr as it died away. His back popped back into alignment and he settled beneath the covers with a sigh. _Comfortable. And tired. Still so tired._

A gentle hand descended upon his skin, bringing a sound of surprise from his lips. His shock turned into a desperate rush of enjoyment as the hand began to stroke down the length of his spine, massaging the muscles in its path as it moved. Heat radiated through the thin material of the shirt he wore, cascading in a tingling trail that followed the path of the hand on his back. Will shivered, weak with his need for rest. A muscled arm pulled him closer, bringing him into contact with the solid warmth of another body. Legs tangled with his beneath the sheets, knees tucked behind his own, effectively cocooning him in a bubble of satisfying heat. Will closed his eyes, his happiness bone deep. _Hannibal._

“Have you finally managed to awaken, or would you like to rest a little longer?” rumbled a sleep roughened voice from behind him. Will moved closer, closing what remained of the small gap between them. Hannibal’s arms opened at once, bringing their bodies flush. _It wasn_ _’t a dream. He’s actually here._ Will soaked in the moment, the reality of it crashing into him like a clap of thunder as he tried without much success to think. The words took a long time to reach his conscious mind. _Question. He asked you a question._

“I’m awake,” he replied with a yawn, his voice soft and gravelly, heart thumping gently against his ribs. “For now, at least.” Hannibal’s hand moved lower to accommodate their new position; it now rested against his hip, long fingers splayed across his stomach. His thumb rubbed small circles against Will’s hipbone, skimming beneath the t shirt as it bunched and pulled. The brush of skin against skin brought a moan to Will’s throat; he swallowed it with a shiver. The fingers quested further beneath his shirt, skimming his stomach muscles in shy, gentle circles.

“And how are you feeling?” Will thought about the question, trying to formulate a response. _Aroused,_ his mind supplied unhelpfully. _Desperate for more of your touch. Aching._

“I feel fine,” he finally replied, wincing at the breathy quality to his words. The hand on his stomach traced idle patterns upward, bringing another helpless groan to his throat. With some effort, he trapped it behind his teeth, breathing slowly through his nose. Hannibal moved closer, placing a small kiss to the profiler’s temple. Will shivered and tilted his head, inviting Hannibal to taste the soft skin of his neck. _Christ, I_ _’m not going to survive this._

“You seem to be in much better condition,” Hannibal murmured, his breath hot in Will’s ear. “Your fever is gone at least.” The groan he had been suppressing pushed its way up Will’s throat, escaping into the air, caught somewhere between a moan and a plea. The mouth at his ear breathed a low, contented sound as Hannibal caressed Will’s sternum. Clever fingers brushed over over sensitive skin, bringing a fine trembling to the surface as he petted idle patterns against the delicate skin on Will’s chest, encircling his nipples, brushing against them as they peaked in the cool air. When Will’s breath tightened further, Hannibal repeated the movement, fascinated by his reaction. Arousal pooled in Will’s stomach; he wanted more, he never wanted Hannibal to stop.

“Oh-” Hannibal’s mouth descended from his ear to his neck, lips parting for his tongue to lick a wet line along his skin. Will arched back, pressing himself into the warmth of Hannibal’s body. His ass pressed snugly against Hannibal’s growing erection, bringing another helpless moan to his throat. _Oh- oh dear god-_

“Hannibal-” The doctor’s name was fragmented, the sound pleading. _Take me. Have me. Want you. Please._ The lips on Will’s neck disengaged to lave along his collar bone, leaving a wet, shining trail in their wake. The hand on his chest idled lower, down across his stomach. The sensation was so good, Will’s body jerked as if electrified. Hannibal’s fingers brushed the cotton of Will’s boxers, questioning. Throat tight, Will rocked nervously up into the palm of the other man’s hand, breath catching at the friction. It was good, too good, not enough. With what remained of his mind, Will turned his head, disengaging Hannibal’s mouth from his body. He shifted onto his back and reached with trembling fingers to pull the doctor to him, gripping his broad, sleep warmed shoulders. Hannibal stared at him with wide, careful eyes, questioning. Unable to keep them apart for another second, Will leaned up and brushed his mouth over Hannibal’s lips before settling their mouths together.

_Oh. Oh my god-_

Hannibal caught Will’s hesitant kiss and deepened their contact, his tongue tracing Will’s bottom lip, begging entry. Will shivered and parted his lips, trembling as Hannibal licked his way into the profiler’s mouth. With utmost care, he tipped Will onto his back, covering the other man’s body with his own, hiding him away from the chill in the air. Will parted his thighs, hooking his heels around Hannibal’s waist to pull him closer. The doctor came willingly, pressing their bodies together from thighs to chest. The kiss deepened, lengthened, time stretching like taffy, warm as the sunlight that filled the room. Will could feel Hannibal’s cock nuzzle against his own, their bodies aligning as if they spent every morning of their lives entwined, bringing each other pleasure unmeasured. Will let his head fall back against the pillows, gasping for breath. 

“Ch-Christ Hannibal-” Without a word, the other man watched his face, his eyes filled with amused affection. He settled himself more firmly between Will’s legs, watching his reaction as their contact deepened. Slowly, deliberately, he rolled his hips. The friction of the rub of their erections brought a wild gasping moan from Will’s lips, sparks of pleasure cascading down his spine in a bright arc of sensation. His hands gripped Hannibal’s shoulders as his thighs parted wider, begging without words for more; more pleasure, more pressure, closer than he’d been to another person in more years than he could count. Hannibal bent his head to Will’s throat, breathing in his arousal. The motion brought their hips flush, and the doctor rocked down. Moisture welled up from the crown of Will’s cock, leaking wetly down the length of his shaft. His boxers stuck to his skin, adding another layer of pleasure as they rubbed together. Hannibal kissed the side of his neck, his lips finding the back of Will’s ear. The touch was tender and secretive; a whisper between two hearts.

“Would you like me to stop?” he murmured. Will shivered at the sound. _God I could come listening to you talk._ Slowly, he shook his head, his heels working to bring them closer.

“N-No, god please-” Hannibal caught his lips in a searing kiss.

“Would you prefer me to continue?” With all the enthusiasm he could manage, Will nodded. Hannibal smiled, a slow upturn to his mouth that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. The red and gold of his eyes deepened, his pupils swelling. _He_ _’s aroused. He wants this. Wants me._ Shivering weakly, Will looped his arms around Hannibal’s shoulders, bringing their faces together. Their noses bumped, brushed fondly in passing as he continued to pull, bringing Hannibal’s ear close. Gathering his courage, he licked at the lobe of the doctor’s ear, his stomach tightening in pleasure at the moan it pulled from the other man’s throat.

“I want you,” Will whispered, closing his eyes. _Please don_ _’t let me sound as desperate as I feel. Please let him understand-_ “I-I want-” Hannibal leaned upward, brushing their mouths together gently. Their lips met briefly, the small, sweet kisses causing the flush on Will’s skin to deepen, small patches of pink appearing across his chest. Holding Will’s gaze, he lifted his hand to brush the wild curls back from the profiler’s flushed face.

“What do you want, darling?” he murmured. “You have only to tell me and it is yours.” Will closed his eyes, weak.

“Will you- p-please-” Hannibal grasped Will’s chin, tilting his face.

“Look at me, Will. Please.” Will opened his eyes. The gaze staring back at him stole the breath from his lungs. He had never seen so much in another’s eyes as he did in that moment; their first fragile moment of truth.

“I want-I need you-” Hannibal nodded, letting his hands trail through Will’s hair. The soft, keening noise he made brought a small smile to the doctor’s lips.

“You need…” he murmured. Will nodded.

“Need you. Inside me. Please-” The words came out in a rush. “ Want you- God I want you so much-” The kiss they shared felt like the shattering of a dam; every emotion they held in check broke forth across their skin in a rushing torrent of need and affection. Clothes fell across the floor like rain, and suddenly, they were bare, pressed together with nothing between them. Will trembled at the heat that surrounded him, covering and protecting him in a wave of human warmth. Hannibal’s mouth descended upon his own in another soul wrenching collision; their tongues flashed together as hands dove into hair, gripping and tugging as their passion rose. When at last their lips unsealed, Hannibal pressed their foreheads together as they panted, their breath mingling in the small, intimate space that separated them.

“Do you have-” Will nodded towards the night stand. Hannibal opened the drawer and withdrew a small, slender black bottle. At the sight, Will’s stomach muscles quivered, a sudden spike of lust spearing through him. It was sharp and _good,_ twisting him from the inside out. He watched, chest heaving, as Hannibal uncapped the bottle, spilling the liquid onto his fingers. His heart clenched, squeezing gently as he realized Hannibal’s hands were shaking. Will watched as he reverently coated his fingers before replacing the cap and tossing the bottle within reach amongst the sheets. Without a thought, he parted his thighs wider, nervous and needy. Hannibal’s fingers drifted down the cleft of his ass, parting him as he searched for the knot of muscle. When he felt the first, soft glide against his entrance, Will gasped in a breath and clung to Hannibal’s shoulders, trembling like a leaf.

“Please-”

“Shhh, my love. Trust me.” The fingers continued their careful exploration, spreading the oil across him in a maddening spiral of pleasure. Will closed his eyes, opening himself to Hannibal’s questing digits. The first gentle push cut his breath to nothing. Hannibal nudged against him, breaching his body with the tip of his finger, spiraling, urging him to relax.

“Fuck-” Their lips brushed together as Hannibal deepened his tiny thrusts, filling Will’s body to the first knuckle. He could feel his body pulse, reaching for the spiraling sensation. The first bite of pain took him by surprise. His eyes flew open, throat working to cry out. Hannibal stopped immediately, kissing Will’s throat, soothing him. Will took a deep breath and nodded, forcing himself to relax into the pleasure offered to him, confident that the man whose shoulders he clung to would bring him through the tight pain to the intense, deep pleasure he craved more than breathing. Their lips sealed as Hannibal deepened his thrusts, adding a second coated finger to the first smoothly gliding digit, breaching, fucking him over and over. Will trembled, his heart bucking in his chest. He tried to beg Hannibal with his lips, his tongue, the tremors of his body. He wanted more. He wanted to feel the other man’s cock inside him, filling him, stretching him to the seams. Their lips sealed and, as if in reply to his quiet pleas, Hannibal added a third finger, fucking him a little deeper, a little rougher, working the lubricant into his body. 

“Hannibal- Please-” The fingers slowed, filled him again, then withdrew. Will panted, the quiet of the room filled with the sound of the bottle snapping open once again. Lifting his head, he watched with fearful fascination as Hannibal filled his hand with the clear gel, shuddering as he coated himself. His breath whistled through his clenched teeth, trembles wracking his body as he caressed his flesh. Will couldn’t take his eyes away.

Hannibal was big. It was so animalistic, so base, yet so undeniably pleasing. Had it not been the case, Will wouldn’t have minded in the least; this first time together might have been a little easier. He was trembling like a leaf, breath hitching in anticipation; the knowledge of his lover’s size caused his heart to kick, anticipation twisting in his stomach. 

“Ready?” the doctor asked, watching Will’s face with something close to reverence. Will swallowed and nodded. Hannibal settled himself between his lover’s thighs, spreading him wide as his cock pressed into place, slick and gliding over his opening until the wet head caught on the ring of muscle. Lowering his lips to Will’s, Hannibal pressed slowly forward.

_Fuck- oh thank fuck-_

Will gritted his teeth and forced himself to relax into the press and stretch as Hannibal filled him. He took the impossibly hard flesh of Hannibal’s cock into his body, one long movement until Hannibal was buried within him to the hilt. When he could go no further, they breathed together, giving Will time to adjust to the fullness within. Hannibal rested their foreheads together, overcome.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck-_

“Oh god-” Will gasped out the words as if he were dying. Hannibal’s hands flexed at his hips, feeling him as they panted. Long minutes passed as Will relaxed beautifully, his body quaking beneath the shelter of Hannibal’s arms. 

“Please-”

“What do you need, my darling?” _Yours. God, please let it be true. Let me be yours._ Will swallowed, trying to produce the words.

“Move. In me. Please Hannibal, I need to feel-” Hannibal began to move within him at once. Will’s eyes shuttered closed, his head falling against the pillow. It was impossible that anything could feel this good. Hannibal set a slow, idle pace, hardly faster than their pounding hearts. Lost, Will cried out beneath him, hardly aware of the sounds he was making as Hannibal rolled his hips.

They fit together as if they were made to fuck. Every possible space within Will’s body was filled, stretched to the seams. Hannibal stared down at him, adoring him as he panted out his pleasure. His cock, hard and leaking, lay against his belly, completely ignored between them. Will knew that the second he began to stoke himself, this exquisite pleasure would end.

He wanted it to last.

Hannibal broke their rhythm, letting their orgasms build as if being brought in by the tide. When Will’s breaths would begin to shorten, he’d slow, filling him and holding him there, impaled on his cock, letting him pulse and keen. When he cooled, Hannibal pinned him to the bed, encouraging him to wrap his legs around his waist as he snapped his hips, working his thick erection into Will’s body. They fucked for what felt like hours, the golden light pouring in through the windows around them painting their bodies in its warm glow.

At last, Hannibal pulled Will’s hips up, tilting his body so he could thrust into him, hard and deep and slow. Will’s moans kicked up into cries, incoherent strings of words he couldn’t seem to stop. He begged Hannibal to fuck him like this forever, to never stop, to make him come. Hannibal watched his face, his own eyes filled with an emotion so heavy, Will didn’t dare put a name to it. The thrusts turned sharp and edged with pain, just enough to pull him to the brink. Hannibal reached up and took his hand where it gripped the pillows, placing it where he needed it the most.

“Will you show me, sweet?” he breathed, panting. “Show me how good it feels to belong to me?” Will nodded frantically, his eyes begging the last question. Hannibal nodded, his face protective and filled with need. “Come for me, Will. Come all over my cock. Moan it out for me. Now.” Will’s hand wrapped around his straining erection and he tugged, his hand flying along his flesh as the pressure broke. His orgasm rode him down, barreling into him in a blinding wash of pure white pleasure. He cried out, his voice less than human as his body shook with the intensity. It blew him to pieces, carried him away to the only safe place he could possibly find; in the arms of the man who buried his face in Will’s throat, teeth sinking into his shoulder as he pulsed inside him, filling Will’s body with his emission. Their movements became slick, hot. Hannibal continued to gently pump within him, filling him, taking his body for his own until their trembling subsided.

When Will came back to himself, Hannibal rolled with care, pulling out of Will’s body with infinite gentleness. Instantly, he hauled the panting profiler to lay close beside him, carding his hands through Will’s sweaty curls. Hannibal’s sex soaked gaze was filled with a kind of reverent wonder that Will had never experienced before in his life. They stared at one another, hardly daring to touch, unable to resist the magnetic pull they felt. _Fuck. I_ _’m never going to be the same. Not after that._

Their heartbeats settled in the quiet, falling into the same rhythm as the light of early afternoon shifted across the room. Will burrowed into Hannibal’s arms, breathing in the scent of his sweat, the faint hint of deodorant and aftershave still prevalent on his skin. Their legs tangled beneath the sheets, slotting together as if they’d slept like this for years. Hannibal’s hands automatically reached for him, bringing comfort, reassurance after the intensity of their lovemaking. They soothed down his back, stroking his skin as if he were loved. _I am here,_ they seemed to whisper _. I will care for you should you need it._ Will closed his eyes, letting the aching relief of his orgasm and sudden rush of affection carry him away towards sleep. Hannibal drifted, keeping watch as the man in his arms slumbered. His mind filed away the details of their lovemaking; the sound of Will’s breathing, his moans, the tight clench of his body, the flash of his beautiful blue eyes. _He may not realize how delightful he looks pinned beneath me, but it is a sight I will never forget._ Hannibal stayed awake for a long time, soothing his lover’s body, nourishing his soul. In time, his own eyes closed and he slept.

***

“God this feels good. How is it that you always seem to know what’s best?” Will sank the rest of the way into the tub, letting the water surround him up to his chest.

“I _am_ a doctor, Will,” Hannibal replied, humor lacing through his words. “My expertise has a tendency to come in handy in such situations.” Gloriously naked, Hannibal slipped in behind him, pulling the profiler back to cradle him the broad expanse of his chest. The water level rose to cover him to the tops of his shoulders, warmth lapping gently against his skin. Hannibal settled against the porcelain edge, adjusting his position until his back sat comfortably into the curve of the ancient clawfoot tub. Will’s head rested against the curve of his neck, the pull of the profiler’s skin against his own so good it was impossible to ignore.

Once they had awakened from their much needed nap, Hannibal had delivered Will’s notes to a very irritated Jack, only managing to keep a straight face when he ask after Will’s health. _Would you believe, Agent, that he spent the morning calling out his passion as he left marks in my back? Would you believe that he is beautiful when he climaxes, that I would give anything and everything to make him mine, to see him every day in such a state? Would you believe that it seems to have done more for him than all the chicken soup and sleep in the world? No. I don_ _’t think you’d see, even if I were to spread him out before you._ In his sudden and inexplicable irritation, Hannibal had cut the meeting short. He didn’t want to think about Jack Crawford. If he was completely honest with himself, he didn’t want to leave Will alone for too long, either. The draw to the other man was intense, but it felt as natural as breathing. He wanted as much as he could get.

Upon returning to Will’s home, he was pleasantly surprised to find him bundled up on the porch, a cup of cinnamon tea between his mittened hands. After laying a gentle kiss to his forehead, he had made himself a cup of tea and joined him. Their conversation had been light and easy, carrying away the last of the day’s hours. Will hadn’t argued with another helping of soup, especially with the promise of a bath afterward. 

It had been Will’s idea that he join him in the water. Hannibal couldn’t have been happier with the arrangement. They relaxed together for a time, no words needed between them, letting the heat of the water soothe away the ache in their muscles. Will stirred from time to time, adjusting his position against Hannibal’s chest, his fingers trailing skin beneath the water. It was perfect.

It didn’t take Hannibal long to catch on to the other man’s sly intentions. He smiled to himself, a bare lift of lips as he let the profiler coax him slowly into what he was truly after. _That_ _’s it, my love. Take what you need, when you are ready._

It took almost an hour before Will turned in his arms, straddling the doctor’s lap as he brought their lips together. Hannibal had never experienced anything as intense as their emotional connection; their physical compatibility and Will’s appetite for intimacy were pleasant surprises, icing on an already perfect cake. Already, he could feel the other man hardening against his stomach, unconsciously chasing friction, relief from the aching pressure building at the base of his cock. They kissed and rocked together, the water undulating around them in pleasant waves. Their erections nuzzled together, rubbing gently beneath the water, stirring, adding another layer of pleasure to the foundation their kisses built. Will pulled away with a shudder, gasping for breath as he seated himself more firmly into Hannibal’s lap. Delight shocked down the doctor’s spine, spreading through his limbs in a wash of electrifying warmth. _I want more of you, darling. I want it all._

“Did I not satisfy you earlier, sweet?” he asked, his voice low in his throat. Will shuddered against him, his hips chasing the pleasure of friction.

“I was plenty satisfied,” he replied, eyes impossibly dark. “That doesn’t mean satisfaction lasts for more than a few hours.” He reached for Hannibal’s mouth, sipping from his lips, savoring his taste. Hannibal’s hands bracketed his waist, pulling him closer as they rocked.

“Is that so?” he purred. Will’s pupils grew.

“God, your voice-” Hannibal grinned, guiding Will’s movements. _Oh?_

“My voice, is it?” Will nodded, panting.

“You. Just- H-Hannibal I-” The hands on his hips slowed his movements. Hannibal pulled the plug, letting the water drain as he soothed the man in his arms.

“Shhh, darling. Let’s take care of your needs.” Hannibal stood and helped Will from the tub. Once they were dried to his satisfaction, he bent and swept the profiler off his feet and into his arms. Breathless, laughing, Will allowed himself to be carried back to bed.

***

“I think I’m feeling better. I should be good to go back to work Monday, don’t you think?” Hannibal traced idle patterns against the bite mark on Will’s shoulder, his mind pleasantly blank. He had come so hard, he had seen stars. Will, it turned out, was as talented and generous with his mouth as he was the rest of his body, and he’d managed to edge him twice before Hannibal had gripped his hair with a growl and poured himself down the profiler’s throat. He had returned the favor, impaling the other man on two fingers as he tasted him, teased him from root to tip as Will panted prettily above him. 

Sated at last, they lay together, talking softly as they drifted towards sleep.

“That’s four days from now,” he mused aloud. “As long as you continue to take it easy, I see no reason you won’t be able to return to work on Monday.” Will grinned against his chest.

“Is ‘take it easy’ code for copious amounts of exhaustive sex with you?” he asked, peering at Hannibal from beneath his lashes. Hannibal nodded, his fingers easing lower to dance along Will’s sides.

“Of course. Consider it the best medication available, but you have to finish the course. If you stop now, you’ll never truly heal.” Will laughed, pulling him down into a kiss.

“Stay with me? Until Monday, I mean.” Hannibal considered him for a moment before placing a small kiss to his forehead. Will closed his eyes, glowing with sheer happiness.

“Of course. I cannot rely on any other to see to your medication.” Will laughed, pulling the covers around him.

“I like you, Hannibal,” he murmured, suddenly shy. _Why? He has to know by now that I have feelings for him_ _… doesn’t he?_

“As it happens, I’m intensely fond of you as well, Will,” Hannibal replied, carding his fingers through Will’s curls. “I will miss this when you are better.” _Don_ _’t miss it. Stay with me. Be with me here. Always._

“We will have to make certain to ensure we have as much time as possible then,” he said, his stomach clenching. “I… I don’t think I would have coped without you here.” Hannibal smiled and pulled him close.

“Let us not make any rash decisions just yet,” he murmured. “But should we continue on this trajectory, I’m sure other arrangements can be made in time.” Will nodded, relieved.

“In time.” Their mouths brushed gently. The kiss felt like a promise, the press of their lips speaking the words they didn’t dare say aloud. _We belong to each other now. Nothing can change that._

“Its time to sleep, darling. You still need to recover your strength.” Will nodded against Hannibal’s chest, settling against him.

“G’night, love,” he murmured sleepily. “See you in the morning.” Hannibal smiled and placed a kiss to the top of Will’s curls.

“You will indeed. Good night, my darling. Sleep well.”

***

**Monday**

“Will! Good to have you back!” Jack’s voice boomed over the conference room, drawing all present eyes to the Bureau’s chief profiler. Will looked wonderful; more rested and brighter than any of them had ever seen him. The pale blue of his shirt brought out his eyes, and paired well with the chocolate colored slacks and matching jacket slung over his chair. The happiness he felt seemed to radiate from him, filling the space around him with warmth and life.

“Glad to be back, sir,” he replied with a grin. Jack nodded and continued his lecture. For the next hour, Will sat, half listening to what was being discussed around him. The remainder of him, the parts that mattered, were at home, in bed with the man he had left that morning. _Soon._

When the lecture concluded, Jack called him back. Unable to quite suppress his smile, Will waited patiently for the room to empty before approaching. Jack eyed him speculatively before offering his hand and a tentative grin.

“You look better than I’ve seen you in ages,” he murmured. Will smiled; a small, secretive smile that lit his entire being from the inside out.

“I got lots of rest and relaxation, all thanks to Doctor Lecter,” he replied. Jack nodded, glancing around.

“Glad to hear it. Speaking of, I’d like to go over these case notes with the both of you-”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible for some time,” Will cut in with a grin. “You see, Hannibal was unfortunate enough to contract my cold. He’s currently holed up at my home so I can keep an eye on him. In fact,” he continued, taking the folder from Jack’s hand, “I only came by to collect your notes. I’ll be working from home until he’s back on his feet.” Jack stared, open mouthed. The shade of red that crept up his neck would have worried Will once upon a time, but that was before. _Before I had something more important with which to concern myself._

“What do you mean?” Jack seethed. “I need-” Will cut him off with a raised hand.

“You need my expertise, but you don’t need me present at the scene for me to give it to you. Since I got sick, I’ve come to appreciate how much I value my health, both mentally and physically.” He stepped into Jack’s space, the smile on his face frozen in a pleasant, intimidating mask. Jack was startled to realize the warmth in his features didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was a hardness, a resolve to him that the agent had never felt before. It was almost a little… frightening.

“You still work for-”

“The Bureau, yes,” Will cut in. “But they can all do without my lectures for another week or two, enough time to ensure my guest is back on his feet.” He turned, collecting the additional files Jack had brought for him to go through. Packing them into his bag, he turned back to Jack, who still stood in the middle of the room, frozen in shock. He placed a hand on his shoulder, startling him out of whatever reverie may be playing in his head.

“It isn’t that bad,” he murmured. “I collected my laptop. I have your case notes. I can help from home, and when it’s time, we will renegotiate what I do for you in the field.” Jack opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Will patted his shoulder before taking a step towards the door.

“Save your energy for now, Jack. We can talk later. I’ll have my notes to you by the end of the day.” Without another word, Will made his way to the door of the lecture hall and out of the building, breathing in the cold, clear winter air as he made his way to his car. Breathless, he retrieve his phone his phone and dialed Hannibal’s number. The smile turned to a grin as he waited for the other man to answer.

“Hello, darling,” came the rheumy voice from the other end. A weak cough followed. Will’s heart squeezed fondly in his chest. _I should not be so happy about him being sick, but I can_ _’t deny… the time together is nice._

“Hi, love. I wanted to let you know I’m on my way home. Need anything while I’m in town?” The considering pause on the other line filled Will’s heart to the brim with joy.

“Oatmeal, if you don’t mind,” came the request over the line. “Perhaps something cold to soothe my throat.” _Christ. Its love. Even now_ _… I love you._

“Sure,” he replied, his voice easy. “Oatmeal and Popsicles coming right up. I’ll pick you up some more cinnamon tea as well. We finished the last of it this morning.”

“Thank you, darling. May I ask…” Will grinned.

“We will talk about it when I get home. For now, try to rest. I won’t be long.”

“Okay. I believe I’ll lay back down on the couch. Perhaps we can take in a movie while you work on Jack’s file.” Will closed his eyes a moment, his happiness almost impossible to contain. _You know everything. You always know._

“Sounds perfect. See you shortly.” He disconnected the call and pocketed his phone. Stepping into his car, he turned on the heater and found a station playing something upbeat and happy- a fitting soundtrack to his mood. Navigating his car out of the Bureau lot, Will couldn’t help but spare another grin. _Quick stop and then we will be back with one another. No time at all, really._ He let his happiness fill him, letting the cup that contained it spill over and into his entire being. He drove away, singing along to the radio, thinking of the man in his home. 

It was already shaping up to be another perfect day.

The End


End file.
